We Belong Together
by sweet-and-simple
Summary: We should definitely just fall in love with each other, get married, and call it a life.  Slightly OOC Reborn; YamaGoku, HibaTsuna, mention of MukuChrome, RebornXLambo
1. In the Beginning

_Eight years earlier…_

_His first official mission is when he's nine years old, one year after Tsuna finds a way (like he always finds a way) to break the arcobaleno curse without destroying the 7^3. _

… _Alright, it's not an official mission… nor is it HIS mission… but he considers it a self-appointed official mission because it's Reborn's (who's now as he was before the curse; a full grown sexy adult) mission appointed by Tsuna to try to assuage a rebellious group attacking the Vongola base in Italy. If needed, Reborn was to use force; Tsuna asked that he try to refrain from killing anyone._

_When Reborn gets on the airplane, Lambo had already snuck into cargo. It never occurs to him that he might worry his Vongola family; he had followed Reborn to them and now he would follow him away. It never dawns on him to not follow Reborn._

_When they arrive in Italy, Reborn checks into a hotel, a safe distance away from where the rebellion is said to be housed but close enough to hear the moment anything happens. Lambo sneaks through the window and makes his home on the couch in the living room, laughing obnoxiously when Reborn comes in and then crying pitifully when he's completely ignored._

_Nevertheless, he follows Reborn the whole day, safely out of sight as Reborn goes about whatever it is that he's doing. _

_When Reborn first runs into the rebellious group two days after arrival, Lambo sits down and watches, knowing that, despite the odds, Reborn will come out for the best._

_By 'despite the odds', Lambo's referring to the six guns pointed at Reborn and the two guns pointed at a young female hostage; it's a lose-lose situation all around as far as a spectator would be concerned (a win-win situation as far as the group is concerned). _

_Suddenly, the sounds of gunshots echo through the air and then the taste of smoke fills the mouth once inhaled through the nose. There's a moment of stillness before all six of the bad guys fall to the ground without a sound, the hostage miraculously untouched, despite two of the gunmen having hid directly behind her._

_She collapses after another moment, fainting from the shock of her near-death experience. _

_Lambo huffs, having not expected anything more or less. Reborn calls someone to pick up the bodies and the girl before sauntering on his way, hands in the pockets of his one-button Armani suit. He passes Lambo without a word, but Lambo smirks and follows after him, teasing him about he must have been terrified going up against all of those big bad guys!_

_Reborn still says nothing; continues to ignore him all the way back to the hotel room where he slips into the bathroom and locks the door behind himself. Lambo frowns at that; usually, Reborn would leave it unlocked, if only for the fact that if anyone did dare to walk in, Reborn would shoot at them and that was much more affective than a locked door._

_Now he feels concern; instead of voicing it, he goes into the stocked kitchen and begins making dinner; it's late at night, sometime pass two in the morning, but neither of them have eaten since around three in the afternoon. He doesn't know about Reborn, but he's starving!_

_He makes salad and fried rice (I-Pin showed him how to make it the best way a year ago) and then grabs a quart of milk to go with his own serving. He finishes eating and there's still no sign of Reborn. He puts his fried rice into the stove to keep warm and the salad into the refrigerator to keep it cool. And then he goes to the bathroom and taps (almost uncertainly) at the wood._

"_Reborn? You've been in there for a long time…" His voice is filled with concern instead of mockery._

_There's a grunt from the other side of the door and the lock clicks. "Be useful, you stupid cow, and wrap this for me." _

_Lambo growls, slamming the door open. "I'M NOT STU-…pid…" Reborn's back is facing him; there's a tiny hole near the top of his right shoulder, just above the rib cage and to the right of the back of his heart. _

_Lambo chokes, eyes widening. "Wh- what happened!" _

_Reborn smirks. "What do you think happened?" _

_Lambo huffs and grabs the alcohol and gauze; the wound looks angry and wider than it should be. That's when Lambo notices the bloody tweezers and the even bloodier damaged bullet next to it on the sink ledge. He pales and looks away. _

"_Well, how am I supposed to help if you don't sit down?" He growls instead of making fun of Reborn for getting shot in the first place._

_Reborn sits down on the toilet seat and Lambo goes about cleaning it; he's still very young, but he was raised in the mafia, so he knows a little more than others his age should about wounds. _

_When he's done, he pauses; he rests his hands on either side of the now cleaned and wrapped wound, leaning forward and pecking the white bandage softly. "Mmmwah!" He adds sound affects to the action. He pulls away with a big, happy grin; Reborn scowls over his shoulder at him but Lambo only leers at him. "I bet it feels better now that I've kissed it better!"_

_The scowl disappears and Reborn looks almost contemplative. Lambo stretches his arms above his head, the bottle of alcohol and the roll of gauze still in each hand, and yawns loudly; he brings one hand back down and rubs sleepily at one gritty eye – now it's nearing three in the morning and he's beyond exhausted. _

"_The fried rice is in the oven and your salad is in the refrigerator." He glares, though it hardly looks threatening with his large green eyes and small stature. "Don't let it go to waste! I worked hard to make it!" He sets the gauze and alcohol down at the sink and walks out. He slips into his black and white spotted pajamas and then pulls the blankets around him as he snuggles into the comfortable couch, the length of it twice as long as his body._

_He's asleep the moment his head hits the cushion… and then he's awake not too long afterwards, his eyes flittering open as he feels himself being lifted, blankets and all. He blinks twice, trying to clear his vision. He sees black, but that's about all as his eyes drift shut once more. _

_When he wakes up the next morning, he's alone in the bedroom; a bad sign on two accounts: one, he had fallen asleep on the couch, and two, where was Reborn?_

_He's dressed and out the door the moment he's done in the restroom; he's an expert on tracking Reborn, after all. It takes no longer than five minutes to find him, though he can't actually go to him because he's in a bar and Lambo – unescorted and underaged – isn't allowed in and there are too few people to go unnoticed. _

_So he sits down outside the door and waits without moving, just like old times, and thinks about random things nine year old children think about; he wants to go the playground, he wants to get ice cream, he wonders about what Mama's cooking at home and when they're going back. _

_A man stumbles pass, pauses, and then smirks down at him. "_Ti sei perso, ragazzino? _( - Are you lost, little boy?)_" _The man asks him with a dirty smile._

_Lambo blinks and then smiles. "_Sto aspettando! _( - I'm waiting!)_"

_The man crouches down and rests a hand on his shoulder, his thumb stroking Lambo above the collar of his black and white spotted sweater. _"Chi? _( - Who?)" _

_Lambo tilts his head, not quite certain why the man is being so touchy feely and not really liking it; it feels weird, like he's doing something wrong which is __**impossible**__because he never does any wrong._

_A gun is cocked. "_Non mi piacciono i pedofili_. ( - I don't appreciate pedophiles.)" _

_The man touching Lambo jerks to his feet and pales, his jaw slacking and his eyes widening. "_Ah hah hah…_" His laughter is nervous as he takes slow steps backwards. _" Reborn! Non ero niente di male, stavo tenendo la società ragazzo! Ma ora vedo che sei qui, così sarò per la mia strada. _( - I wasn't do anything wrong, I was just keeping the boy company! But now I see that you're here, so I'll be on my way.)" He turns tail and runs away._

_Lambo leaps to his feet, grinning up tot Reborn. "Clever Reborn! What did you find out?"_

_Reborn puts his gun away, stuffs his hands into his pockets, and walks away without a word. Lambo trots after him, trying to keep up with Reborn's long, sure strides and with success._

_It is seven hours before they get back to the hotel and Lambo is whining for the hunger and tiredness he feels. Reborn's ignoring him (per usual), so Lambo sticks his tongue out at his back. _

_He makes dinner again, switching it up by using the cookbook also supplied by the hotel (such a nice place!) and materials in the cupboards and freezer to make mini calzones and mashed potatoes._

_He puts the calzones and mashed potatoes left over in the oven to keep warm once he's finished and then gets dressed for the night; having forgotten the night before, he nuzzles into the couch. It's hot enough that he doesn't miss his blankets (which are still on the bed), so he doesn't notice their absence. _

_He's asleep before too long and wakes up – for the second time – in the bed, no Reborn to be found._

_For whatever reason, this goes on for the two weeks they're in Italy. Lambo cooks dinner, falls asleep on the couch, wakes up in the bed, and is ignored by Reborn the rest of the day. _

_When they get home, Tsuna hugs him and tells him to not go off somewhere without warning him! Mama welcomes them both back with a warm smile and I-Pin grabs Lambo and goes off to play at the park._

_Life went on as normal…_


	2. Holy Crap

_Present time (eight years later)…_

Lambo's pencil clatters to the floor as a sudden thought occurs to him: _'_Yare, yare_… I think Reborn knew this whole time.'_

He had been thinking about how everyone in the Vongola family seemed to be pairing off. Then he thought about how ironic it was that most of them came together under Reborn's manipulation. And then it occurred to him how each couple seemed to balance their loved one out: darkness to their light and a light to their darkness, something to strive for.

_That's_ when he drops his pencil and his earlier realization drops on him like a ton of bricks – _Reborn's manipulation_. Reborn must have met for this to happen!

"_Ranbo wa, nani ka machigatte iru? _( - Lambo, is there a problem?)" His sensei's tone is snide and clipped.

Lambo looks up from his notebook to blink stupidly at his teacher. "Uuummm…" He shakes his head. "_Masaka! Watashi dake... I no itami o motte! _( - No! I just… have a stomach ache!)" He stands up and bows. He apologizes as he grabs his school supplies and runs out of the classroom, leaving his fellow pupils giggling and whispering as he makes his retreat.

He runs all the way home and then all the way upstairs, ignoring anyone he comes across. Reborn is lounging across a couch, reading a newspaper and a large espresso on the coffee table next to him.

Lambo drops to his knees by the couch, gasping for breath. "Did you… plan for… that?" His voice keeps breaking on a pant.

Reborn ignores him in favor of turning the page.

Lambo huffs. "_Yare, yare_… Don't… ignore me." He puts one hand on his shoulder and the other on his wrist, leaning forward. "Yamamoto and octopus head! They wouldn't be together if not for you! Hibari and Tsuna would never have seen themselves in such a relationship if you hadn't have brought them together. Mukuro…! … Well, Mukuro would never have met if Tsuna hadn't kicked Mukuro's ass after getting those gloves from Leon!" Two years before, Tsuna had actually orchestrated the escape for Mukuro (they had needed his skill for another uprising; life never goes easy for Tsuna). "You get no credit for Ryohei and Kyoko –" (strictly a brother-sister relationship, but they never seem to want for a romantic relationship as long as they have family) ", but the point still stands! You're responsible for pairing off the Vongola _famiglia_ while _still_ staying in the _famiglia_!"

Reborn flips another page. "Can you prove it, you stupid cow?"

Lambo pauses. "… _Yare, yare_…" No, he couldn't.

"While we're on the subject; _why_ would I do such a thing?" Reborn smirks, but it could just have something to do with whatever he's reading. He never looks towards Lambo.

Lambo thinks the question over a few times. "Because… they complete each other?"

"How so?"

"Well, Hibari is a sadistic, people-hating, uncaring bastard while Tsuna can't help but lend a helping hand and mercy, so they have that yin and yang balance. Yamamoto's always calm and accepting while Octopus head is always pissy, so they have that 'calm and enrage' factor where they just impassion each other. Chrome is innocent, helpful, and shy while Mukuro is… Mukuro, so they have their own father and mother thing because of Ken and Chikusa. Ryohei and Kyoko are family, so they've known each other all their lives."

Reborn says nothing. Lambo waits with almost impatience.

"… And?" Reborn talks as if Lambo obviously forgot to mention something.

"… And what?" Lambo cocks his head curiously, blinking his one eye.

Reborn sets his paper aside and sits up; he sets his legs down on either side of Lambo so that he's kneeling between Reborn's legs, his hands on either knee. "What about you? As useless as you are, you're still the thunder guardian. How is it that I have coupled everyone else but left you alone?"

Lambo looks down and away. '_Because Reborn is cruel_.' He doesn't say it, though. Next comes the assumption that maybe Reborn had intended for him to hook up with I-Pin (which makes him want to choke; she's practically his _sister_!), but then dismisses it. He doubts Reborn plants to pair him up with Ryohei, so there's honestly no choice left. "Because I'm too awesome?" He deadpans.

Reborn grins maliciously down at him, his obsidian eyes alight with wickedness. "Because you chose to follow me to the ends of the earth, and as long as you do so, there's only one choice for you."

Lambo, confused by this, takes a moment to try and understand it. While he does this, Reborn stares coolly and mockingly down at him, waiting without end with obvious amusement.

Lambo's hands clench around Reborn's knees as his face flames with sudden realization. _'Oh… Goodness…' _"R-Reborn!"

The hitman snickers. He grabs Lambo quick before the boy can whip out of the room and drags him into his lap. Appeased, Reborn slouches (elegantly, mind you) and throws an arm over the back of the couch, one hand still on Lambo's hip to hold him there as the guardian looks torn between running away and crying.

"Is it that terrible? It would be just like now; you already follow me everywhere and discourage my sex life. You jeopardize nearly all of my missions with your presence and you're obsessed with me. Is it so upsetting that you come into my bed as a lover?" He sounds more mocking than questioning.

Lambo's tempted to electrocute him, but he already knows how that's going to end and it's not worth risking. He rests a hand on Reborn's chest to keep him at a distance (not much of one, apparently) and the other he grabs the wrist of the hand still holding him. "He-hey! Don't go touching there!" The fingers had brushed aside his coat and vest to stroke his bare hip bone.

Reborn twists them around and pins Lambo beneath him on the couch, the guardian's hands captive above his head by one of the hitman's. His smirk is dangerous enough to make the teenager shake. "R-Reborn, don't do it."

"I'm not doing anything." Says the man whose free hand is pushing Lambo's shirt up, trailing nails over his flat belly.

"Liar!" He begins struggling, trying to kick the self-righteous ass.

Reborn tuts and undoes Lambo's tie, using it to secure his hands together before going about unbuttoning his white vest. "The Namimori school uniform looks horrible on you." He spreads each half to the side, exposing Lambo from hip to shoulder.

Lambo sobs. "Don't!" He tries to club the bastard with his tied up hands; they're caught long before they beat against the fedora covered head. "R- Re-… Ah!" He arches sharply off of the couch, mouth open in a shocked gasp and his eye wide.

Reborn suckles at one nipple, teasing it with his rough tongue and nipping it with his sharp, even teeth. Lambo is limp instantly, his thighs trembling and his lower belly drawing unusually tight; it felt so _hot_ and so _good_. Why did it feel like this?

He groans, tears slipping down his cheeks as Reborn kisses a trail up to his throat and sucks hard at the pulse just beneath his jaw.

When he lifts his head, he removes himself completely from Lambo, even going as far as to untie him. He looks pleased and content, except even Lambo can make out the tent in his pants. It's a problem they now both have.

Regardless, he grabs his tie from Reborn's dangling fingers and runs from the room, faster now than when he had ran into it. He's horrified by what just happened, but he doesn't know which horrifies him more: What Reborn did, or how he reacted.

_**Author's Note: I'm not strong in those pairings; I actually prefer Hibari with either Dino or I-Pin (one of the few straight pairings I like, but you have to admit that something's going on there) and have no clue as of yet who to pair Tsuna up with (Anyone have any opinions on the matter? He's definitely the perfect uke, that's for sure). I have no clue who to pair Ryohei up with, but he definitely deserves some love! Mukuro and Chrome… Mmmeeeehhh… debatable. What I wanted to do was pair them all up within the family (So sad about Ryohei). Reborn and Lambo I stand strongly by and Yamamoto and Gokudera is definitely a more solid pairing for me (I'll accept Gokudera and Tsuna). I just wanted to point this all out; thanks if you read this.**_


	3. Attachment

_Seven years earlier…_

"_Why won't you let me follow him! If I don't, who will?" He scrabbles for purchase but finds none hanging three feet off of the ground with only walls near enough to touch._

_He's ignored, held by the scruff of his neck like a misbehaving kitten. Since he's not a kitten, it _hurts_! But he's wondering along the lines of something else right now._

"_DAMN IT, LEMME FOLLOW HIM!" Now he's attended to; a finger taps his nose hard and he's stared reprimanding-ly down upon. He sniffles…but then doesn't have the guts to wail._

_Hibari continues onward until they're before the doors to Tsuna's office. He opens the door with his free hand and walks in. "You need to keep closer attention on your cow." _

_Tsuna stops writing whatever it is he's writing; he looks up and sighs, looking sad and confused. "Lambo… Why can't you just wait here for him? He'll be back soon."_

_With Tsuna, Lambo has the guts to break out into a full on screaming session. "NO! I HAVE TO GO WITH HIM TO MAKE SURE THAT NO ONE KILLS _MY _REBORN!"_

_Tsuna pauses… he stands up from his chair and comes around, moving slowly closer to Lambo and Hibari (Hibari still holding him off of the ground) and frowns. "… Lambo, how do you feel about Reborn?"_

_Hibari puts him down – finally! – and begins a lazy retreat. Tsuna frowns at his back, but says nothing. He looks down at Lambo and waits for his answer._

_Lambo snorts and places his hands akimbo. "He's my archrival! It's my goal to kill him!" He pouts. "How can I do that if he's not there! I _have_ to follow him!"_

_Tsuna sighs and goes back to his seat; he gestures for Lambo to come and the boy slips into his lap without thinking about it, just like old times. He stares up at _Decimo_ with large, annoyed emerald eyes._

"_Lambo…" Tsuna begins out almost uncertainly. "You can't follow him everywhere; sometimes - … Most of the time, he's going into a really dangerous situation, you could get hurt! Or you could distract him and then he would get hurt. Do you understand?"_

"_No." He answers truthfully, a dull expression on his face._

_Tsuna sighs. "Neither of you are invincible… You could die, or he could die. So, please… stop fighting us and stay here until he gets back. We just want you to be safe."_

"_EEEH! You have a funny way of showing it, stingy Tsuna!" _

_Tsuna stands up, letting Lambo touch ground again. "Let's go find Fuuta, neh?" He ignores completely (except for a strained smile) Lambo's outburst. _

"_No! I want to find Reborn!" His vision is beginning to blur… It darkens for a moment – only a moment! – and then it clears, leaving him in the arms of a very freaked out Tsuna._

"_Lambo, when was the last time you ate?" His voice is shrill._

_Lambo blinks… he thinks about it… He begins counting on his fingers. "two… three…four…"_

_Tsuna's shoulders relax. "Only four hours ago? Alright, let's go getting something to eat, _then_ findFuuta-"_

"_Four days ago." Lambo deadpans, staring up at Tsuna. "Can I go find Reborn now?"_

_Tsuna pales. "F-four days ago! Why wouldn't you eat for so long?" The shrillness is back. _

"_Duh! I've been trying to find Reborn, but _some people_ haven't been letting me! Now I'm really hungry, really tired, and there's _still_ no Reborn!"_

"_How long have you gone without sleeping?" When Lambo begins counting on his fingers again, Tsuna shakes his head. "Never mind..." Suddenly, a light sparks in his eyes. He crouches down so that he's the one looking up at Lambo, putting his hands on the small guardian's elbows to keep his attention. "I'm going to tell you something, Lambo… You have to be at full strength when Reborn comes back."_

_Lambo perks up instantly. "Really? Why?"_

_Tsuna smiles. "Because he expects you to be." It's not entirely a lie; even if Reborn doesn't think much of Lambo's full strength, he will still notice that Lambo's lagging, and then he would have a private conference with Tsuna regarding taking care of each of his guardians without ever telling Lambo._

_He tilts his head curiously. "Why?"_

"_Because, if you're not…" Tsuna's face blanks out; he can't think of anything. "… Because…"_

"_Because he will EXTREMELY kick your butt!" Ryohei enters the office, a fist clenched level to his head._

"_Lawn head's right." Grunts Gokudera, sauntering in behind him. Yamamoto merely laughs in agreement as he follows Gokudera. _

"_EEEHHH! Who are you calling a lawn head, octopus head!"_

_They're instantly head to head, currents of tension zinging from one to the other. "Who the hell do you think you're calling an octopus head!" They growl at each other._

"_Mah, mah, you two need to calm down!" Yamamoto smiles good naturedly. "This is about the kid, not us." He swaggers forward and crouches by Lambo's side as well. "Reborn's really counting on you to be good while he's away; you have to eat and sleep to be healthy and if you don't, you'll get sick. And if you get sick, you won't be able to see Reborn even after he comes home."_

_Yamamoto may as well have threatened Lambo with his life because the boy begins trembling, eyes horrified. "I can't get sick! You all need me too much!" His self-proclaimed importance isn't too far off, though not in the sense he believes. He's nearly useless in a battle, but they do love and need him. "I'm too strong to get sick!"_

_Gokudera huffs. "That's what the baseball idiot is saying, brat! If you don't eat and sleep, you'll _get_ sick."_

_Lambo clings to Tsuna._

"_I'll make an EXTREMELY late dinner!" Ryohei jogs out of the room, smirking._

_There's a long moment of silence._

"… _We'll tell him we forgot that we ordered out." Gokudera supplies as he takes out his cell phone and dials up a restaurant that makes home orders. Tsuna and Lambo nods, both looking a little sick, while Yamamoto looks creepily serious._

_Ryohei's cooking is no laughing matter; he does everything to the extreme… including spices, ingredients, and timing. Nothing tastes like pork that looks and smells like it's been burning in hell for a century._

_It's five days before Reborn comes home, collected looking as always and sure of foot. He saunters in like he owns the place ( of course) and reports to a relieved looking Tsuna. When he's done, his former student stands from his chair, comes around his desk, and stares adoringly at Reborn._

"_You have no idea how much we've missed you." He goes as far as to dare a hug, but Reborn hits him over the head before he can succeed. _

_Nonetheless, he's curious why Tsuna's being so daring. Tsuna just smiles, rubs his bruised head, and gestures him out._

_It doesn't take two minutes before Reborn gets an answer._

"_REBORN!" He grazes the head of the missile on his elbow, sending it up through the ceiling instead of letting it hit him. There's scornful laughter and then Lambo reveals himself, shirt buttoned up wrong, hair a shaggy mess, and eyes bright and dull at the same time. It's four in the morning. "I stayed strong, just so I could defeat you!" His smirk is large as he puts his hands proudly akimbo. _

_There's a distant explosion as the missile goes off some floors up, making debris fly down the makeshift hole. A falling plank hides Reborn's small quirk of the lips. "It doesn't matter how strong you become, you stupid cow." Lambo huffs at the insulting name. "You will never defeat me." He turns his back on Lambo and walks away._


	4. Blunder

_Present time…_

When Reborn leaves on another long period mission, Lambo doesn't think twice about following… until he's sitting in a passenger seat (he's always wanted to sit in the plane instead of in cargo) of the airplane that's sending them to Italy yet again.

He's going to be alone with Reborn for the first time in two weeks since _that_ happened. What's going to happen? Is Reborn going to make a move! _Yare, yare_, he shouldn't have come… Than again, what would he have done if he hadn't?

Reborn's… like his everything wrapped up in one jackass. It's not like he can just abandon his archrival after 11 years over a molestation!...

… Alright, maybe he _could_, but he wasn't going to! Reborn had to have been making fun of him, which would be more reason to hurry up and kill the stingy bastard!

It's a rather uneventful flight. He doesn't see Reborn until they touch ground. He meets Reborn at the luggage line, but is ignored – he's almost relieved by it this time.

When they get their bags, they're on their way to the hotel they've used ever since '_their_ first mission'. Lambo thinks about (if only for a moment) getting a different hotel room… and then the thought annoys him because it's as much his apartment as Reborn's (though he's never paid for the rooms or for the food or for _anything_ there)!

Besides, what if Reborn realizes that he's doing all of this to avoid him? How would that look? _Bad_, that's how it would look! He's overreacting, that's all. He's just a little concerned… mostly for his ass.

When they get to their room, Lambo immediately dresses in for the night (behind the locked door of the bathroom) and then begins making a dinner of chicken parmigiana; it's easy enough to make and it tastes really good – the only bother is that it takes almost an hour to make, but whatever keeps him busy.

Reborn's not there when he comes out of the bathroom, but he doesn't follow. He knows exactly what he's doing and exactly where he is: surveying their surroundings, making sure nothing's different from the last time they were here and slipping a tip to their host for keeping quiet about their arrival.

He'll be back within 10 minutes tops.

By the time he bathes the chicken cutlets in egg yolk and then covers them with bread crumbs (after having doused them with salt and pepper and then flour, a skillet on the stove heating), the door clicks open and Reborn comes in exactly 10 minutes after he left.

Lambo's good at what he does and what he does is follow Reborn. He can't help but feel proud for being so right.

The skillet hot and the olive oil boiling, the guardian rests the cutlets into it and prepares the baking dish, spreading marinara sauce over the bottom before flipping the cutlets after three minutes. He waits another three minutes, the chicken now a very nice brown color, and then puts them atop the marinara sauce before adding another layer of marinara sauce, than the mozzarella slices, and then sprinkles of parmigiano.

He stuffs it in the stove and sets the timer for 25 minutes. Then he does the dishes, and then he dries them, and then he puts them away; now there's 15 minutes left. He washes the counters and the surface of the stove (hot, hot!), and now there's 13 minutes left.

He can't think of anything else to do.

"It's cowardly to avoid me." Reborn mocks. He's sitting nonchalantly at the bar, elbows braced on the counter and one leg over the other; there's a glass of wine in his one hand and a cigarette in his other.

"_Yare, yare_, I'm not avoiding you." He sounds more like his mellow self now, but it's still obviously a lie. He _hates_ clean up duty; why else do it without being told to if not to avoid the hitman?

Reborn smirks, sipping his wine as he slips out of his chair and swaggers close; Lambo can feel himself go tense. He (shockingly enough!) realizes that there's a really nice spice in the cupboard that might go _great_ with dinner! Coincidentally, said cupboard is across the kitchen from where they are now, meaning that Reborn is left by the sinks as Lambo rummages very thoroughly for the mysterious and elusive spice.

"What a liar."

Lambo spins around on a huff. "What do you want me to do?"

Reborn does the cigarette out in the sink and crooks a finger. Lambo stands his ground. "Those are going to kill you one day." He's talking about the cigs.

Reborn smirks. "You should convince me to stop."

"_Yare, yare_, what game are you playing?" He sighs, ruffling his bangs with one hand. "You're confusing me, Reborn." He admits softly. "First, I could never get you to acknowledge me. And, now,… it's like you're _seducing_ me."

The hitman cocks his head, his black eyes watching Lambo so closely, the guardian has to look away and hide his trembling hands behind his back.

The timer goes off. Reborn escapes at a languid pace back to his bar stool. "Dinner's done."

Lambo eats his serving, drinks a glass of milk, and then puts the leftovers in the refrigerator. He settles onto the couch and curls up beneath the blankets. There's silence all around

"… Reborn?" His eyes are closed, but he can feel the shift of Reborn's attention to him. "Why are you doing this?"

No answer; Lambo falls asleep without one.


	5. Dependence

_Six years earlier…_

"_AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" Lambo's clutching at his right eye, blood seeping from between his fingers._

_His attacker finds this highly amusing. "Hah hah ah ah hah!" He tips off his cigar, smiling like the jolly old man he looks. "What a sceamer! Makes me wonder what else you're loud at." There are guffaws from all around as the man's group registers the perverted joke._

_They're a circle around the fallen thunder guardian, every one of them holding a variation of a Bernardelli handgun except for the boss who holds steaks knifes. _

_One of them is covered in blood. _Lambo's_ blood. _

_He sobs as he forces himself back to his feet; his body is shaking all over from shock. One of the men to the side rushes forward; grabs a clump of his hair and twists his head sharply while shoving his knee into his gut. _

_Lambo falls back onto his hands and knees with a choked off yell. He coughs violently._

_The big man with the steak knives chuckles and waddles forward (he's round like a pregnant woman). He pets Lambo's hair like a proud father. "Now, how about we have a chat about your lover, my dear?" _

_Lambo whimpers; lover? Who is this man talking about? Lambo has no lover – he's not _old _enough to have a lover. Gokudera said that he'd blow him up if he had s-e-x before he was sixteen and Yamamoto (for a very rare occasion) had agreed (but in a less violent manner) with him. Even Tsuna didn't want him having s-e-x so young. _

_The man grabs his hair, pets it back for an affectionate moment, and then pulls hard, jerking Lambo's face up to look into his. "I'm sorry, did you say something, my dear?" _

_Lambo shakes his head, blood and tears streaking his face. He can't see out of his right eye, his right eye is throbbing, is he going to lose his eye? _

"_I think you did say something, my dear; I think you said you would love to have a conversation about your lover!" Lambo had said no such thing! _Who _was he even talking about! "You want to help me catch him? Why, yes, my dear, that would be wonderful of you!" Where was this man getting this from? "All you have to do is tell me all about him; go on, talk to us about your magnificent lover."_

_He has nothing to say – he still has no clue who he's talking about._

_The man sighs, almost looks sad. "Listen, my dear, I want to help you out here, but you have to help me in turn." His small, swollen eyes are cruelly intent. "What do you know about the hitman, Reborn?"_

_Lambo's eye widens, his hands trembling somewhat – what does Reborn have to do with a supposed lover of his? Besides that, _no_! He wasn't going to sell out his archrival to these stingy people! If he did, they could use what they would learn to kill him and then he wouldn't be able to kill Reborn himself!_

_He clenches his teeth shut and glares at the man through one eye. _

_The man sighs sadly once more and turns his back on Lambo. "My sons… he's not going to talk! We're going to have to persuade him." He gestures for his man towards Lambo as he walks out of the circle to rest against a large cushiony chair._

_The guardian watches with one wide eye as they come closer; most of them even put their guns back into their holsters, twisted grins on their faces. They begin grabbing themselves and a few of them get as far as freeing their manhoods. _

_Lambo feels cold everywhere as a horrible feeling envelopes him completely. What ever they plan to do, it's not laundry._

_He shuts his eyes tightly and releases a war cry, charging wildly forward with his horns thrust forward; the first time he tried this, he had been effortlessly thrown to the ground. Now, the man he charges at smirks and puts his hands akimbo, expecting nothing more than a poke and then he'll have first dips._

_He screams as he's electrocuted, spasms racking his body as he falls to the ground. Guns are drawn instantly and pointed threateningly at Lambo._

"_Throw the horns towards us." One says in a deep, grave tone. He cocks his gun; four others follow his example. _

_Lambo looks from one to the other; what's he supposed to do? What would his archrival do? His archrival would have a gun, and he has to admit that that looks a lot more convenient than his close range horns. _

_He sucks in a deep breath; he doesn't reach for his horns. _

"_Are you deaf? Throw us the horns!" A hand falls on Lambo's shoulders; he spins around and shoves a horn into the man's chest – it's not long enough to kill him, but the shock is enough to send him to the ground. _

"_Don't touch me!" He growls at them, desperate tears falling from his eyes. They edge in – they know he can't take them all down; he can't even kill them. _

_He can't back up because they're at his back and he can't run forward before they're their too. He can't go to either side because he's blocked in. He's completely cut off. _

_He steals a deep breath; he's going to have to be daring. He's shaking like a leaf in the wind by the time they're close enough to make a grab for him._

_Relying on all those times he played with I-Pin, he grabs one arm, uses it to hoists himself up, and then leaps over their backs, shoving them to the ground as he went. One grabs his ankle, but he manages to kick him in the face with the other foot._

_Ribs creaking, eye bleeding, mind and body screaming, he runs as if hell would catch him if he wasn't fast enough – which isn't too far from the truth. _

_He can hear them behind him and it makes it harder to breathe. He kicks up his legs, speeds himself, and can't breathe through burning lungs. He sees the fence that separates him from freedom and – sobbing – realizes he won't have enough time to jump it before they catch up to him. _

_Regardless, he still tries; they have his ankles and shove him back onto the ground before he could make a successful escape. _

_One grabs him by his neck and shoves him against the wire fence, the man's face twisted into an ugly scowl. His hand is slowly but surely squeezing the life out of Lambo's body and no amount of scratching at his arm can stop him. His vision blurs… he's falling… it's so dark where he is, but he can hear them laughing and jeering. _

_He can't help but think that… _yare, yare_, it's really peaceful wherever this place he's at is…_

_And then gun shots echo through the air – suddenly, he can breathe. He can feel the dirt beneath his scratched up palms. He sucks in one breath after another, coughing between each steal of fresh air. _

_There had been 15 men, but now there's only one left, and he looks terrified for his life. He stumbles over his own feet as he backs away and then screams as if the monster in the closet had revealed himself. _

_It's as Lambo tries to lift himself to see who this monster might be that he realizes that his shirt is ripped open and that his pants are around his knees. Funny… he doesn't remembering that happen._

_Behind him, on the other side of the fence, Reborn stands coolly, a smoking gun in one hand and the other tucked into his pocket._

_Lambo jacks up his pants, scurries up the fence, and lands in front of Reborn, not even stopping his own body from wrapping himself around the hitman. He sobs into his torso, his body shaking; his vision is still swimming. _

_The man on the other side turns around and begins running, tripping over his own feet. A small hole blooms in the back of his head, followed by the echo of a gunshot. _

_Reborn neither returns the embrace or pushes him away. _

_Like an idiot, the fat man comes running. His face pales as he looks at all his dead 'sons'. He howls at the sky. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE! My boys! My beautiful boys! None of them deserved to die!" He drops to his knees by his many boys and grabs the nearest one, holding him as if a hug will bring him back._

_Lambo can't bring himself to care one way or the other – he's terrified and in pain. He feels cold and violated, though he's pretty sure none of them got as far as stripping him. _

_The gun in Reborn's hand clicks, Lambo sees him take aim, and then BANG! The old man joins his sons in death. _

_Reborn snaps his phone out, calls in the cleanup crew, and then lifts the nearly unconscious Lambo into his arms; the guardian can't feel the pain anymore for a strange lethargy stealing over his body and Reborn is swimming in and out of focus._

_When he wakes up two days later, Reborn is sleeping with his eyes open in the chair by his side; looking exactly as if he's awake except his head's bobbing with every breath he takes. Lambo reaches out to tug at him, to say that he wants water, but Reborn's hand snaps out and grabs his wrist in a bruising grip._

_Lambo yelps and Reborn wakes up; the hitman looks from the wrist he's holding to Lambo's face and doesn't say a word. He walks out of the room and, a few minutes later, everyone in the Vongola family walks into it… minus Reborn. _

_The three weeks he doesn't see the hitman, Lambo falls into another depression; after all, why _can't_ he follow his archrival?_


	6. Date

_Present time…_

He wakes up, amazingly, on the couch; something that hasn't happened since he was nine – it almost makes him sad… wait, no, he did _not_ have that thought! Not so amazingly, Reborn's already gone. Seven minutes later, Lambo is out hunting for him, clean and dressed.

He comes across the bar Reborn always goes to for visiting his contacts and Lambo rests against the outer wall – he's still not old enough to go in.

It is three hours before Reborn saunters out. He doesn't even look at Lambo as he begins his way down the street, heading in the opposite direction from the hotel. Lambo, just as quietly, follows.

When Reborn enters a more seedy looking club, Lambo sighs and leans against the wall again; he knows one thing for sure: blood is about to spill because Reborn would never stoop so low to go into such a dirty place of his own will.

As he thought, screams begin from within; three minutes after Reborn goes in, everyone's rushing out after one of the pimps is shot in the head (though he knows that, later on, it's going to be claimed no one heard a gun, which won't be a lie). Four minutes later, Reborn and Lambo are on a completely different street, three dead men left behind them.

Reborn simply does not negotiate with bad guys; poor Tsuna.

Lambo balances along the edge of a fountain, staring down at all the shiny coins as he waits in his boredom for Reborn to finish dissembling and then hiding the gun used for the kills.

Even if someone manages to find it and reassemble it, they would never be able to trace it back to the Vongola; it's just best to take precautions.

When Reborn walks nonchalantly pass him, Lambo leaps off of the fountain and follows. It's around lunch, so he's pretty sure they _should_ be heading back to the hotel, but they're not.

He follows with curiosity now; is the job not done?

They end up heading for a restaurant and Lambo sighs. Does Reborn have a date? He _refuses_ to acknowledge how his heart shudders at the thought; it had always done that when Reborn went on a date or a lover of his was mentioned in any way, but now it has a completely new meaning from just not liking his archrival in a relationship. Ever since _that time_, everything suddenly seems so intimate.

When he goes to stop outside the gates, Reborn turns around and crooks a finger at him. "Don't stop following there."

Lambo blinks, but does as told, wearily tracking the hitman as they enter the dully lit, warm settings. It feels like home: Only Italy can get an Italian restaurant right.

The waitress sees them coming and leads them instantly to a table out of sight. She asks them what they would like for the afternoon and they both make an order (Reborn wants an espresso to go with his and Lambo wants milk). She walks away and leaves the two men in silence.

Lambo stares out of the window; it looks like it's going to storm heavy. The sky is so dark and cloudy, it looks like night. There's a flash of lightning and he feels himself tensing and then relaxing with each strike. There are bad memories and good memories tied to those flashes of lights; like his first fight is a _really_ bad memory, while the first time he won a fight using lightening is a very _good_ memory.

He tenses when he hears the rumble and then relaxes when he sees the flash. This goes on in silence, Reborn's head tilted down as if he could be staring at the table.

The waitress returns with their beverages and then leaves again; she doesn't say a word, as if she knows that the silence can _not_ be broken.

Tense… relax… tense… relax… tense… relax… The lightning is beautiful; like a moving painting that has no artist but life itself.

By the time their lunch arrives, they still haven't spoken a word. Lambo has his full harvest salad and Reborn his…

Lambo pales and looks away; _stingy Reborn_, he had to have done that on purpose. Because before Reborn on a platter is…mushroom veal marsala… _veal_… _cow_…

That _bastard_.

"Do you have a problem with my lunch?" Reborn is staring directly at him, fork at the ready.

Lambo looks down and away. "You did that on purpose."

The hitman smirks. "Do you suppose that it's your brother?" He takes a bite of the meat and chews slowly; Lambo swears he's taunting him. "He tastes good." He wishes Reborn was a messy eater just so he could find _some_ fault with what he was doing aside from the obvious, but Reborn doesn't let slip a drop of the sauce, nor does he hog his food. He simply takes his time.

Lambo stabs his salad, wishing it were something else completely… like, who knows… a head? A very certain head? He glares at the leaves.

A fork sneaks onto his plate and his head jerks up to watch as Reborn eats it. He could have sworn that Reborn had been eating slowly, but… his plate is empty now; devoid of all but a mislead trail of sauce.

He slaps away Reborn's head. "No!"

Reborn smirks and eats the fork full he has. "You have to defend your food." He nabs at Lambo's plate again and succeeds.

Lambo growls and waits for the next time; when it happens, he grabs Reborn's wrist and holds, smacking the fingers like a mother would the hand of a disobedient child. "No!" He holds the hand away as he takes a bite of his own food. He glares petulantly at the smug Reborn as he does so.

Reborn, with one flick of the wrist, has Lambo's hand in his instead of vice versa. He holds it, feathering his thumb over the back of it. He brings it up to his mouth and kisses each knuckle, his eye glinting with some hidden agenda.

Lambo flushes darkly and can only stare. He continues to eat his food, but he doesn't taste it. When he looks back down (finally), his plate is empty.

Reborn smirks and drops his hand, leaning back into his chair. A moment later, the waitress returns; she takes their empty plates and their orders for desserts.

The storm outside is raging, pelting the glass window hard enough that it sounds like it might break. Each flash of lightning that strikes lights up the sky until it hurts to look. Each clash of thunder makes him jump in his seat.

He only look back at the hitman when he hears a soft chuckle. The man has his chin lowered, his face hidden by the shadow of his fedora. His hands are folded together, his elbows on his thighs as he leans forward; he leans back and throws an arm behind himself.

Lambo feels himself begin to move. His chair scrapes the ground as it slides towards Reborn; it stops when their thighs nearly touch. Lambo looks down just in time to watch a loafer clad foot release a leg of his chair. And yes, still, Reborn is ignoring him, as if Lambo just so happened to have gotten there.

That _stingy _bastard.

The waitress comes back and makes no comment on how they have moved closer together. She puts down the espresso flan in front of Reborn and the Italian hot chocolate in front of Lambo before she sets a plate of Romeo's kisses in the middle.

Lambo blinks. "_Signorina, _( - Miss,)" He begins softly. "_mi dispiace, ma non ci siamo per questi._ ( - I'm sorry, but we didn't order these.)"

She smiles happily. "_E 'sulla casa per essere così sgargiante nella vostra sessualità, il nostro capo è anche gay e noi tutti lo amo molto, in modo da fare tutto il possibile per sostenerlo._ ( - It's on the house for being so flamboyant in your sexuality; our boss is also gay and we all love him dearly, so we do what we can to support him.)"

"_Grazie per loro._ ( - Thank you for them.)" Reborn offers her that drop-dead-gorgeous smile and she flushes darkly.

There's a gun to Lambo's gut if he dare say anything about them not being a gay couple. That evil, _clever_, bastard.

He forces himself to smile as he tries to, very carefully, wrap his hand around the gun and pull it away from his belly. "_Sembrano deliziosi._ ( - They look delicious.)" She beams and struts away; Lambo waits until she's out of hearing range. "Please take your Beretta away from my gut." It digs into his hip.

"And if I don't?" His deep, dark voice whispers into the guardian's ear. The gun begins moving down and –

"GAH!" Lambo's body jerks and he bends over the table, biting his bottom lip as tears flood from both eyes. "Aaaahh…" The muzzle rubs into his sensitive inner thigh. It's right next to his manhood. "R-Reborn… no-ooooohh…" He breathes each word, throwing his head back and bucking his hips into the assault.

A hand whispers up his throat and grasps his jaw. "What an erotic voice…" He chuckles sensually. "You have been hiding this from me all of these years? Naughty cow."

A romeo's kiss is taken from the basket and slipped between Lambo's parted lips. He tastes chocolate and fresh pastry.

"Eat your dessert." The gun disappears completely and Reborn leans back into his own seat.

Lambo, panting and _very_ bothered, stares with wide – eyed shock at the hitman. Reborn slips a finger under his jaw and tips it up, shutting his mouth. He begins eating his espresso flan, ignoring Lambo _yet again_.

Lambo picks up his hot chocolate with trembling hands; he manages to sip a bit – "HOT!" The cup nearly falls onto the table, but he manages to set it down without spilling it before his hands jerk at the sudden and biting pain.

His tongue is burnt now, but at least his _problem_ is gone. He swears, out of the corner of his eye, he sees Reborn smirk. That evil, stingy, clever, dastardly _bastard_ – he is really going to have to kill him one of these days.


	7. Allegiance

_Six years ago…_

_Lambo is in the hospital, recovering from the kidnap. He won't ever be able to use his one eye again and the doctor has implied to Tsuna that Lambo needs therapy for what he has seen and gone through._

_At first, he assumes that they're talking about him seeing men undressing (planning to rape him) and then nearly being choked to death while said men prepare to gang bang him. _

_It takes him an entire week before he learns that they're talking about him seeing Reborn kill 16 men; the thought is so preposterous that Lambo throws his IV at the therapist who was trying to talk to him about it._

"_Why would I be upset about _that_!" He screams, tears streaming from his one eye. "I was nearly _raped_! I lost an eye and was nearly choked to death! I'm _happy_ that he killed them!" He collapses back onto the gurney, sobbing his heart out. "What he does has not and has never frightened me." He admits in a croaky voice. "He saved me right when I started to think I wasn't going to make it…" He glares at the man. What a stingy man!_

_The therapist nods his head and stands from his chair. He walks out of the room without a word; Lambo hopes he doesn't come back. Three minutes later, there's the click-clack of heels against linoleum._

_He growls when he sees the therapist yet again. "Go. Away!" The therapist sets aside and reveals a man standing behind him. "Reborn!" Lambo brightens up instantly… and then he gets pissed. "Stupid Reborn!" He grabs the teddy Kyoko had given him and throws it at the hitman. "You haven't visited me since I got here!"_

_Reborn catches the teddy and then throws it back at Lambo. "GAH!" The force it hits the guardian with is surprisingly strong for a stuffed animal, crashing the boy back into the gurney. He begins wailing, clutching his forehead. "Stingy Reborn!" _

_The therapist writes something down on his clipboard. When Reborn slides his eyes towards him, the therapist very subtly turns his body so the hitman can not see what he's writing. "I'll give this to Decimo." He states monotone. His eyes flicker to Reborn with something close to disgust and then glance sadly at the still crying Lambo. He nods his head in farewell and leaves._

_Reborn's fedora is lowered over his eyes; it's difficult to tell if he tracks the man's movements, is staring at Lambo, or is studying the ground. When the therapist is gone, Lambo half expects Reborn to leave as well._

_He sniffles as he sits up, going to rub his eye, when he pauses. His hand flutters uncertainly to his lap. That's right… he doesn't have that eye anymore… The doctor had said to not irritate it, or else they will actually have to take the eyeball out; Lambo doesn't want that…_

Click-clack, click-clack, click-clack, click-clack_… An arm wraps around Lambo's shoulders and pulls him against a solid, warm surface. Lambo looks up at Reborn who is staring without emotion down at him. He has the boy cradled to his abdomen. _

_He begins crying all over again and yet these tears fall silently. "R-Reborn…" He reaches his arms up. As if he were a small child, Reborn lifts him up and cradles him to his chest (highly un-Reborn-like). Lambo wraps his arms around his shoulders and holds on. "Why are there people like that?" He asks in a hushed whisper._

_Reborn sits down in Lambo's spot, Lambo in his lap. "Don't ask such a childish question." Lambo flinches and lifts his head from Reborn's chest, looking up at him with a stricken face. Before he could declare that it wasn't childish, Reborn brushes a finger over the bandage over Lambo's one eye. The boy is startled into being quiet and Reborn says nothing. _

_It goes on this way until Lambo falls asleep, his cheek nuzzles over Reborn's heart and his arms lax over Reborn's shoulders. _

_When he wakes up, he's lying down on the gurney, no Reborn in sight._

_Five hours later, Tsuna is trailing after the therapist, looking abnormally irritated. "I know Lambo and Reborn have a strange relationship, but they just do! There is nothing wrong with it!" Tsuna pauses for a moment. "…It's not normal, but it's not wrong!"_

_Lambo frowns. "Stingy therapist, what are you doing here?" _

_The therapist leans down and strokes Lambo's hair back. "I'm taking your concerns to heart, Lambo. I believe that being near Reborn is bad for you."_

_Lambo slaps his hand away. "Reborn is my archrival! I _have_ to be near him or else he'll get away and be killed by someone else!" The therapist gives Tsuna a drawl look as if this is supposed to explain something._

"_Lambo… Because Tsuna gave me permission – "_

"_You never told me what it would entail, you just told me it was for Lambo's own good!" Tsuna clenches his hands at his sides._

_He's completely ignored. " – to do as I am legally permitted, I am going to deny entrance into your hospital room by Reborn for the remainder of your stay; by the time they check you out, I expect to see a difference in your behavior."_

_Either his mad hair plan was carried through… Or Reborn simply didn't bother to visit him again. Lambo, who isn't _as _naïve as he once was, knows that Reborn can not be stopped by any force when he wants to do something; which means that… Lambo isn't important enough to Reborn to come see._

_After only three days, Lambo becomes withdrawn and depressed. He won't talk to anyone, nor will he eat or drink or sleep. He just lies in his bed, not meeting anyone's eyes. _

_What's the point in life if he can't follow Reborn, mock Reborn, and attempt to kill Reborn, or even _see _Reborn? He can't even hear his voice! He doesn't even know where he is. Reborn could be halfway across the world at this moment, but he wouldn't know. He _needs_ to know. _

_He passes out after the third day; he doesn't care to wake up, but he does. When he slides his eyes open, the therapist is there, looking confused and bothered by something._

_Fury races instantly through Lambo. "STINGY THERAPIST!" He throws a punch and it hits the man in the jaw; it hurts Lambo's fist nearly as much as it does the man, which isn't much with how weak he feels. _

_The therapist all but runs from the room._

_Five minutes later – Lambo lying on his side, facing the wall opposite the door – there's the click-clack, click-clack against the linoleum. Lambo tenses, almost daring to hope, but too afraid to. He bites his bottom lip and waits._

_The click-clacking stops and there is no sound to follow it. Slowly… so slowly… he shifts in the bed, his eyes shut, until he's facing the door. He counts to three and then opens his eye._

_He begins crying again, but he's smiling as he does so. "Reborn! You're not in the desert somewhere getting eating by a crocodile or at the bottom of the sea fighting off a giant squid!" He's so happy, he wants to hug the hitman, but he can't bring himself to move. What if he's dreaming? No… He can't be dreaming._

_In his dreams, Reborn doesn't ignore him; that's only real life Reborn._

_Reborn does not acknowledge him, though Lambo talks nonstop to him for seven hours, recapping what has happened since the last time Reborn had been there (it's amazing what you can talk about when you've been stuck in a bed for over two weeks) while he eats his lunch and then dinner. _

_He falls asleep with a smile on his face, his tiny frame curled warmly underneath the covers._

_It's just not worth living life unless Reborn is there to live it for._


	8. Cruel Kisses

_Present time…_

Lambo drags himself into the hotel room, locking the door behind him on reflex instead of actual thought; he's exhausted beyond imaginable and Reborn-less; it's enough to make it a really bad night for him.

He goes to make dinner, but he's not hungry – after lunch that day, he had been too distracted to do anything right… which is why he returns home now without the hitman. He, for the first time in years, lost his trail.

He sighs as he staggers into the bathroom; he takes a long, luxuriously hot shower, feeling the heat relax his tense muscles. When he's done, he dresses in his night clothes and leaves the bathroom.

He pauses in the hallway, his head hung low; he knows which way he should go – to the couch – but he just doesn't _want_ to go there. He had been waking up in Reborn's bed for so long, it doesn't seem right to wake up anywhere else.

Damn that stingy bastard for destroying that comfort; before, he never worried about what it could escalate into or what it would mean – now that Reborn has done what he has done, it feels dirty. Like a bad secret he's been a part of but hasn't known until now.

He can't figure out _why_ it feels dirty, but he just knows that is how he feels.

He pets one of the buttons of his cow print nightshirt; he steals a deep breath and turns towards the bedroom. _Yare, yare_, daring, wasn't he?

He slips into the bed and grabs Reborn's pillow, wrapping himself around it; so Reborn can't have it, of course. He doesn't care that it smells like smoke and coffee (just like Reborn). Really, he doesn't.

He's asleep in only moments. And awake in what feels like only moments later.

Reborn is as quiet as unsuspecting death; but Lambo had developed a third sense for the hitman and it is that sense that makes warning bells go off in his mind which seems to yell 'Reborn is staring at you, I think he is going to KILL you!'

His eyes flutter open and there is Reborn at the end of the bed, a cigarette in hand as he stares down at him with soulless eyes.

"_Yare, yare_, you've begun smoking heavily again." Lambo sits up, stretching his arms up over his head. "Where have you been this whole time-…" Yes, if he looks close enough, that is definitely a hickey on Reborn's neck.

His heart squeezes hard in his chest and tears mist his eyes. But Reborn had been seducing _him_, why had he been off with some other bimbo? Why does he _care_? He has always hated every one of Reborn's lovers, but this feels different; like betrayal or, or… _jealousy_ – which is ridiculous because why would he be jealous? Sure, Reborn had molested him twice now, but that doesn't mean anything!

That dirty feeling Lambo had felt earlier suddenly makes sense: he is just a number among dozens who have lied in Reborn's bed(s) – a little play toy Reborn is amusing himself with.

It's quite a wake up shock; enough of one that Lambo doesn't feel the need to sleep… like, ever again. His eyes go from one corner of the room to the other and then bounces off of a few other surfaces before he sees the clock. He had slept for four hours.

He has to get out of their.

He leaps out of the bed and tries to pace quickly (run) pass the _asshole, bastard, jack ass, cheater, man whore, STINGY REBORN, _hitman.

An arm snatches him up by his waist and lifts him momentarily off of the ground before slamming him back into the center of the bed; Reborn is leaning over him, hands on either side of Lambo's head, one leg between his, staring down at him with unreadable dull black eyes.

"Hey, let me go, Reborn!" He shoves at the hitman's shoulders, his teeth clenched and the tears hot and thick down his cheeks. "Get off of me _now_!" He goes to throw a punch at the bastard's face –

But the fist is caught in one of Reborn's hands. Reborn only stares down at him, eyes roaming over Lambo's face, watching each tear fall, all with a… hollow expression on his face; not even blank, but _void_.

It's that look that frightens Lambo enough that his crying quiets into sniffles and then stops altogether. Reborn is still holding his hand. Carefully, the man shifts and then drifts his lips across Lambo's one cheek. He puts their combined hands to the mattress and balances on that while he uses his free hand to brush over the boy's jaw.

Lambo can only watch and feel, unable to fight against the look. Reborn kisses his pulse and then sighs against it. Even his smirk looks off as it bares his canines in a melancholy way.

He lifts his head, tilts Lambo's head up, and then his lips cover the guardian's.

He can taste cherry lipstick and smell perfume. That dirty feeling before escalates into complete self-loathing as Reborn steals his first kiss and he doesn't fight him. Reborn licks his bottom lip and then nips it, so Lambo opens his mouth, planning on sucking his bottom lip into it so Reborn can't get to it, only to welcome Reborn's tongue instead.

Whoever the woman was, she wore a lot of lipstick; the taste coats Reborn's tongue like a horrible second skin.

Lambo keeps his eye closed, unable to watch this. Does this make him no better than the whores Reborn busies himself with? He really should fight, no matter what look Reborn has on his face. It's not like Reborn ever cares about him, so why should he care about Reborn?

Alas, he can't stop himself from trying to get the taste to go away – the taste of thick, horrible lipstick – by trying to replace it with his own taste. His hands bunch in Reborn's yellow vest as he slides his tongue against the hitman's, shuddering as the taste thickens (it is disgust for the taste and something else he just _can not_ admit to). He can feel a trail of saliva begin at the corner of his mouth and the taste of wax cherries seems to follow it out.

He can taste smoke, espressos, and grapes.

He tangles his free hand into Reborn's hair, disgraced at his self as he thrusts lightly his body up against the hitman's.

It's when he absolutely has to breathe that Lambo turns his head away, panting. His cheeks are flushed, but it's more than lust and has somewhat to do with his crying. His lips are bruised and there is a wet trail from one corner of them; he's a beautiful sight, but he doesn't know it. He's being used: _that _is what he knows.

Reborn uses his pointer finger and thumb to turn his face back to his, descending again. And, yet, just before their lips touch, Reborn stops… just… _stops_. Why, Lambo doesn't know. His eyes are closed, after all.

Reborn's hand slips from his and he's abruptly alone on the bed. "Go take a shower, you dump cow; you smell like a cheap whore."

"Says the man that just returned from one!" Lambo shoots back, sitting sharply up. His eye is alight with fury and _disgust_, but his hands are trembling and his legs are curling into his chest.

He must have been imagining when he had thought the hitman's smirk _off_ earlier, because it's perfectly _right_ now; complete with making Lambo feel as if Reborn could step on him and he would die beneath the damn loafer. "She wasn't cheap."

He sobs. He holds onto the lapels of his nightshirt and hits his forehead off of his knees. "So cruel, Reborn… Why are you so cruel? So evil…" He abandons the bed and the room and runs into the bathroom.

He doesn't go for the shower first; _first_, is the toothpaste and toothbrush and mouthwash and then repeat five more times. All he can taste is waxy cherries and menthol. Reborn smokes clove.

He retches into the toilet before he gets tiredly into the shower. When the hot water is beating against his skin, he crouches down and folds his hands tightly over his ears; he begins shaking all over again. "Cruel, cruel Reborn… _Stupid_, _clever_, **cruel**… Reborn…" He sobs and laughs in the same breath. "You will never change." He hides his face into the nest of his arms. "You will always be… Reborn." He chuckles dismally.

He'll have to kill him soon… If he doesn't… he'll have to leave him. He didn't chase Reborn for 11 years for this kind of abuse; he was able to keep up with the verbal and physical abuse and the ignorance, but… but…

"Cruel, cruel… Reborn."


	9. Ignorance

_Two years ago…_

"_Reborn, why do you still ignore me?" Lambo tilts his head curiously, school bag slung over his back and Namimori school uniform on. _

_He is, of course, ignored by the hitman Lambo had just so happened to skip the last two hours of the school day to meet up with after Reborn's return from a mission. _

_He sighs. "_Yare, yare_, I'm not a small fry anymore. I am the thunder guardian of the Vongola family; doesn't that merit any attention from you?"_

_Again, he is unanswered. _

_It doesn't matter; behind Reborn, where, undoubtedly, the man _shouldn't_ be able to see him, he smiles. This was the longest period of time he had been without the hitman – Fuuta had not wanted him to miss any more school and had brought the subject up with Tsuna who had agreed (with some doubt because he remembers the multiple times before when they had tried to separate the cow-obsessed boy from his archrival). _

"_Why are you smiling, you dumb cow?" Comes the gruff question._

_Lambo blinks, but the smile only grows. "My archrival is home and safe for another day… At least…" He smirks his own small smirk that isn't nearly as dangerous as Reborn's, but just as entrancing. "until the day I decide to take you life." He assumes his apathetic face. "But I feel pity for you today, my archrival; you will be safe. I'm warning you, though, be ready by breakfast tomorrow." He says it all with the self-confidence of someone who _knows _they're all that._

"_The grenade in the coffee maker is getting old."_

"_EH! You've figured it out already?" Lambo is, least to say, shocked! Despite the fact that he's been playing that specific trick for nearly five weeks (not including the two weeks and random days Reborn wasn't there to do it to) nonstop, he is nearly certain that Reborn shouldn't have figured it out._

"_If I have to buy a new one tomorrow, I'm killing you."_

"_Eh heh heh… No hard feelings, archrival?" Lambo smiles pleasantly enough._

_There's no answer; Lambo doesn't expect one. He follows with the loyalty of a stalker as Reborn trails his way back to Vongola base._

_He knows Fuuta and Tsuna are going to be upset to see him out of school and he knows that Hibari is going to bite him to death for skipping, but it's all worth it just to be the first to see Reborn come home._


	10. Proposition

_Present time…_

"_Dici sul serio?___( - Are you serious!) The waiter stares with wide eyes up at the tall, commanding man. He looks continuously from him to the 40,000 Euros in his hand (a little over 50,000 American dollars) with awe, shock, and horror. After a painful moment of debate, he tries to shove the money back at the man. "_Io non posso farlo, signore! Mi dispiace, ma è troppo disumana._ ( - I can't do it, sir! I am sorry, but it is far too inhumane.)"

The man chuckles and pushes the money back at him. "_Ti sembro un uomo disonesto?_ ( - Do I look like a dishonest man?)" He lifts a hand to flash the wedding ring. "_Questo è stato un feticcio per noi e ci ha promesso che ci avrebbe fatto per il nostro 10 ° anniversario. Vuole che il fattore sorpresa, così ho bisogno di essere imprevedibili_. ( - This has been a fetish for us and we promised ourselves that we would do it for our 10th anniversary. We wants the surprise factor, so I need to be unpredictable.)" He smiles tenderly. "_Tu sei un uomo buono per negare che molti soldi per qualcuno che non conosci. Tutto quello che devi fare è consegnare la cioccolata calda, condito con il liquido Viagra. Non è nemmeno illegale_. ( - You're a good man for denying that much money for someone you don't know. All you have to do is deliver the hot chocolate, laced with the liquid Viagra. It's not even illegal.)

The waiter bites his bottom lip and – after a long pause – nods his head. If he hears anything about a rape, he'll report himself _and_ this man! For now… he takes the money and the vial of liquid Viagra.

The man smiles happily. "_È possibile far apparire ogni volta: è B29 stanza._ ( - You can bring it up whenever; it's room B29.)" With that, he walks away.

The waiter gulps and decides to wait a few hours. The man said unpredictable, right?


	11. aphrodisiac

_Five hours later…_

He makes the decision… the impossible, actually _painful_, decision… to not trail after Reborn today.

It's not as easy as it looks; every time he stands up – whether to get a glass of milk, a snack, go to the restroom, or any other little thing – he's always turning towards the door, about to open it when he realizes what he's doing and has to physically stop himself. He had been stalking Reborn for so long… it doesn't feel right be away from the hitman.

What is he hiding from anyway? Reborn is always cruel to him, so what makes this any different? The man is and always will be stingy.

So why does he hurt so much? He had never felt so… betrayed, before. It makes him feel even stupider to have that feeling because all Reborn has been doing is playing with him. A grope here, a molestation there, _his first kiss_ – but he can't think of it that way because that might actually destroy him for the first time.

He shouldn't be so upset about this! After all… wait a moment…

Oh no. _No!_ "THAT STINGY BASTARD!" He had already stolen his everything from him! His time, his attention, his soul, his every _dream_ and _nightmare_, they all belong to that, that… DUMB PERSON! His first goal, his first sacrifice, his first obsession, his first - … Nope, not going there. He wants to _kill _Reborn… not _love_ him… The jealousy, the fear, the happiness… all of those emotions he has always felt for Reborn, they do _not_ equal love.

'Yare, yare_, denial is the first stage.'_ "DAMN IT!" Even his subconscious was against him!

But he didn't love Reborn, _couldn't_. Loving Reborn would be… suicide; homicide if Reborn doesn't like you enough.

He groans as he falls back onto the couch; he'll stalk Reborn tomorrow – this sitting around gives him too much time to think.

The sharp knock at his door startles him out of his thoughts. "Coming!" He stands to his feet and drags himself tiredly to the door.

When he opens it, there's a small, blonde man with his head hanging low and a cup of hot chocolate held high. "_Mi dispiace, ma credo che si potrebbe avere il numero sbagliato stanza. (_ - I'm sorry, but I think you might have the wrong room number.)"

The small man shakes his head and shoves the hot chocolate into Lambo's arms. "_Nessun errore! Avere una buona giornata, signore. _( - No mistake! Have a good day, sir.)" He all but runs away.

Lambo watches him leave curiously… _Yare, yare_, what caused that? He looks from the disappeared bell boy to the enticing cup of hot chocolate and then back.

… Well… there is no reason to let a good cup of hot chocolate go to waste.

He shuts the door. On its eggshell white surface, the golden room number plate reads A29.

He's half finished with the cup when he first realizes that there is something… funny about it. He begins to feel hot and uncomfortable, there's a strange taste on his lips and tongue.

By the time he finishes it, he's a whimpering mass of quivering flesh on the couch. His hands tear at his cow print vest and slip beneath his slacks just to retreat and rub over his nipples (with complementary moans and groans).

A cold shower… that's what he needs, a cold shower… _Really_ cold.

He stumbles to his feet, resting his forehead against the wall for its coolness against his burning skin and to guide him to the restroom. He doesn't bother to turn on the lights or strip – he turns the water on as cold as he can get it and slips underneath it.

"GAH!" The cold wars with the heat and his body goes tense with shivers. "Ooooohhh…" No good, his hands are wondering again.

He needs, he needs… Goodness, what does he need? He needs to be _in _something, he needs something to be _in _him. He needs something rough, something that can snap the tension in his lower belly. He needs something… something, something, something…

He's half in and half out of the shower, his legs cast over the ledge of it and his shoulders flexing against the cool tiles. He gasps and contorts before grabbing roughly the length growing between his legs. It hurts! Touching it hurts, but it hurts _so good_…

"AH! Aaa- aaaahhh…" It becomes difficult to see through the haze of his eye and difficult to breathe through the fire in his lungs. He begins pumping but it doesn't feel like enough – it could _never _be enough. He needs more! Goodness, he needs all he can get…

What does he need to get this heat to go away? He knows he could – technically – wait it out, but how long with _that_ take? Too long, that's how long!

His hips buck his length into and out of his hand; it's wet from the shoulder and slippery from the pre-cum. It's hot and heavy in his hands – what does he have to _do _to make it go _away_!

He slips one hand behind himself into the slack of his pants, shoving without preparation one finger into his anus. He arches sharply off of the floor. "AAAH!" He thrusts it fast and hard, his breath breaking each time he shoves the digit into himself. It doesn't take long before he adds a second, and then he tries to add a third, but – _damn it_ – the angle is too awkward and it more hinders than helps his cause.

He shoves his slacks down to his knees and grabs a small bottle from the shower, a cylinder shaped container only as thick as two of his fingers together. It's nearly seven inches long.

He turns onto his knees and rests his chin against the carpet. His mouth falls open and his eye widens with every inch that sinks into his body. "Ooooooo – ha ha! - … Nnnnnuuuuhhhh…" He begins pushing it in and out at an increasing rate. He's so _hot_, something needs to douse the flames ; he _has _to be on fire, how else could he be so hot?

He's pounding it against his prostate, screaming every other forceful plunge. "Ah- ah – AAAAAAAHH!" He tosses his head back and pinches one nipple hard. He twists it until he feels pain and then he swivels the container, slamming harder against his pleasure spot. "AAAH! AAH! Aaah! Aaaaa – ooooohhh…"

There are tears of shame mingling with the drops of shower water. It feels _so good_, but it feels so impersonal and _dirty_. He wants to cum, but he can't bring himself to do it.

He throws the container into the sink, swearing to himself that he'll clean it off later. Shaking and trembling – his cow print dress shirt is holding onto his quivering form by only one button, already slipping off of one shoulder, but naked otherwise – he stumbles towards the bedroom.

In his mind, he can see the muzzle of the Beretta being rubbed against his thigh, causing the most delicious sensation of his life.

And, wouldn't you know it, there's hand lotion on the side table and a spare Beretta in the drawer. He's just barely sane enough to make sure that the safety is on before he's rubbing it slippery with the vanilla scented lotion.

He's going to burn in hell for this… even with the safety on, he's pretty sure he's still going to end up shooting himself up the ass. Regardless, he pushes the Beretta into the trigger guard before pauses, choking on a yelp. His back arches into the invasion; he feels like he's about to burst open.

He violates his own body with the gun until his body sucks greedily at the weapon, taking it in pass the trigger and even to the magazine release.

"_OH!_ Oh, Goodness…" He grabs his cock in one hand and begins pumping in time with each thrust. "AH! Aaah! Oh, _GOODNESS!_" His body sways onto its knees and then he's riding the gun, feeling the thickness and length of it like a sweet, _painful_, burn.

He grabs the headboard and holds on for dear life. He's almost there; he is going to _make it_! He just needs a little more, something to set it all off like a spark to a barrel of ammunition. He just needs – he just needs - …

_Dark obsidian eyes glinting cruelly, lips curled into a fiendish smirk. _"OOH! Oh, _yessssss_" _The gun comes up, pointing right between Lambo's eyes, there's killer intent in those obsidian orbs, the hitman looks almost sadistically happy with what he is about to do. _"YES! OH, GOODNESS!" _His tongue swipes over his bottom lip and his smirk widens into a viciously heartless grin, his eyes promising to eat him up like the big bad wolf did with little red riding hood._ "YES! Please, please, please! M- mmmm- MORE!"

His body is being shoved forward for every thrust of the gun – his free hand is clenched into the bed covers to keep himself in place as he screws himself. He doesn't need to stimulate his erection, he already feels like he is going to shatter into a million pieces. He grunts between every scream and plea.

_He's thick and hard and __**fucking**__Lambo into the wall, the ground, the table, the counter, into _air_. He's branding him inside and out, that sinful dark voice whispering dirty and unthinkable things into his ears and those hands grabbing here and pinching there and then pumping where his body needs pumping. _"R-R-REE- B-B"

_Reborn is growling into his ear, biting the back of his neck and pulling sharply at Lambo's hair. "Say it, you dumb cow." He demands. "Say it for __**me**__." He purrs, licking Lambo from shoulder to jaw like a lollipop._

"_REBORN!_" He cums all over the bed covers, whimpering as he does so. His hand falls away from the Beretta to hold his body up as he cums so hard, he nearly collapses against the bed surface. "Ah… ah…" He panted noisily, feeling _some_ of the heat slacken, but not enough. _Never enough_.

There's a faint pulsing in his butt – the gun is still nearly completely sheathed inside of him except for the handle (he's embarrassed to realize he would have shoved that in too had he been able to).

He moans and slumps onto the bed… He grabs Reborn's pillow and nuzzles his face into it. He's as hard as a rock without second thought.

Curling around the pillow, he reaches behind himself again and grabs a hold of the gun. With all of the strength left in his boneless body, he begins all over again.

"Reborn – ! … Oooohhhh, Reborn…"

_**Author's Note: OOooooh, he's a kinky bitch. This might sound a little wrong to some of you, but I've wanted to do that!**_


	12. Love and Make Love

It's a little pass midnight when Lambo wakes up. He blinks and sits up – only to wilt back onto the bed and whimper. He _hurts_ in places he didn't even know existed. His butt has its own pulse and it's the strongest one in his body, even stronger than the one in his nipples and his inner thighs.

That haze of lust comes back to him little by little – how many times had he cum using Reborn's Beretta?... Three times – _Goodness_, what the _hell_ had gotten into him?

He begins crying, hiding his face into the pillow. Why had he done that! He had stolen his own virginity using a _gun_! He's _sick_, he has to be! It had all happened so suddenly, so _abruptly_; he hadn't meant for it to happen!

After what feels like hours, his wails quiet to sniffles and he gets the will to force himself to think. He needs to clean up his mess before Reborn gets home. That includes the bathroom, the living room, the bed, _and_ the guns… _Yare, yare…_ He has a lot to do.

He begins to push the covers off of him when five different things occur to him with dizzying force.

He had been above the covers when he had passed out, and they had smelled like sweat, blood, and orgasms. There had been a Beretta handgun shoved four inches up his butt when he had lost consciousness (he flushes to realize what an explosive orgasm that had been). Then there was that he was now fully dressed while he had just barely been wearing his cow print shirt before becoming unconscious.

This… no matter how it happened… was a _bad_ thing. Because that means that someone saw him like _that_.

He sits up and whimpers at the force he has to exert. He did a number on himself… how pathetic.

"Ciaossu."

"GAH! Reborn!" Lambo jumps in surprise.

The hitman swaggers into the bedroom. "There is a gun I will never use again because you could not stick to the lotion bottle." He sits down at the foot of the bed.

Lambo draws his legs to his chest and stares at Reborn with a wide, horrified eye; he is going to _die_.

The hitman snaps out his cellphone, smiling fondly at what he sees when he flips it open. "Well worth it, though." He turns tilts his hand so Lambo can see the main screen.

_Tears had stained his rosy cheeks; his mouth is open on a soft snore. Cum and blood soaks the bed sheets, the pillow he's holding like a teddy bear to his chest, his belly and his thighs. His lips are a raw red and swollen. The cow print shirt is drooping off of one shoulder and completely off of the other arm, exposing half of his sweat glistening back. His shaggy, sable hair is shiny with perspiration and an amazing wealth of a mess. _

He gasps and reaches out to nab the phone. "Don't set that as your main screen, you old pervert!" He yelps. Reborn holds the phone still out of reach. "Reborn… please?" He tries to use an adorable pout – the same one that wins his way every time against Tsuna, Fuuta, and I-Pin.

Reborn smirks. He moves up the bed, close enough that his breath ghosts over Lambo's lips. "Persuade me." He catches the fist that flies at his face, tilting his head up so that one eye is revealed from the shadow of his fedora.

Lambo is crying again. "Cruel Reborn! I lost my virginity to a Beretta!"

"Actually, you lost your virginity to a container of vanilla body lotion. You stopped in the bathroom first after drinking the Viagra."

"I didn't drink any Viagra!" Lambo snaps, shocked at the notion of it.

"You didn't know you were drinking Viagra; the bell boy was supposed to deliver it to B29 but mistook it for this penthouse. You drank the cup meant for a woman whose fetish was date rape with her husband." He explains it all without changing tone of voice – if he's disgusted or awed, it's hidden by slight amusement.

He stares blankly at the hitman. Is this what happens when he doesn't follow Reborn? He somehow _still_ ends up in unfortunate situations.

"I fucked myself with a gun while drugged… and you are sitting there laughing."

"Well, you stupid cow, you shouldn't have drank a beverage that arrives at your door but wasn't asked for." He states it airily with a curl of his lips.

"… I want to go home." There; he gives up. After 11 years, he is ready to go home and rest and spend a few days (or weeks) without seeing the bastard.

"You can't go home. You are more than 6,000 miles from home." He leans in to Lambo, one arm braced by his side and his lips brushing Lambo's jaw. "All you have is me, _my. Naughty. Cow._" He licks up from the jaw to the corner of Lambo's eye.

He shoves at the hitman's chest. "You cruel, cruel, _stupid_ bastard!" He sobs. "Why are you doing this?" He looks at Reborn with a broken eye. "Did I do something wrong? Is there some unforgiveable thing that I have done that you can't forgive?" His hands clench into the lapels of his Armani suit. "Tell me!"

Reborn's face had blanked out, staring down at Lambo with no emotion. "You did do something wrong – something so wrong that your fate chose you and there is no escape from it." He speaks softly, as if speaking to a spooked deer.

Lambo sobs. "What did I do?"

Reborn brushes his tears away – that look is back; hollow and distant, as if he were buried in darker thoughts. Suddenly, he chuckles, tilted his head down so that his fedora hides his eyes. "You haven't figured it out yet, you stupid cow?"

Lambo shakes his head. His jaw is cupped and Reborn descends again; Lambo shuts his eye.

Lips brush his forehead. "I have loved you since you were nine years old."

Lambo gasps, his eye snapping open. He's lying! He has to be lying! There is no possible way that he is telling the truth! Reborn doesn't _love_, much less love Lambo. Tears trickle uncertainly from both eyes as he stares up at Reborn with shock and disbelief.

Reborn strokes a thumb over the eye to shut it again and Lambo obeys, too stupefied to defy him.

Lips brush his cheekbone. "Remember when you asked the question about the Vongola couples completing each other." He states it, demanding that he remember instead of asking if he does. Lips brush his other cheekbone. "Remember how you said that they complete each other." He kisses the lid of his damaged eye. "Remember what I said to you." He kisses the other eye. "_'Because you chose to follow me to the ends of the earth, and as long as you do so, there's only one choice for you.'_" His breath ghosts over his lips. "And that choice is me."

It is the softest touch of lips Reborn has submitted him to yet; so gentle and caressing that Lambo has not a thought to fight. His hands loosen in the folds of the suit and his body begins to melt as he is so tenderly marked by the hitman.

"If I don't have a choice… does that mean that you still do?" He asked with a low, rejected voice, as if he already knows the answer and it is not in favor of him. He stares at the all telling hickey.

Reborn tilts his head up to meet his gaze. "She had important information she wouldn't share unless I slept with her." Lambo remembers how dirty he had felt when seeing the kiss; imagine how Reborn had felt. And then he doesn't have to because he remembers that devoid, spacious look.

His eyes drift back down, ashamed. "I'm sorry." He can't remember the last time he said that.

Fingers bunch in the short hairs on the back of his neck and tug his head back. "Don't be." The hitman purrs. "Your kiss made sleeping with that 'cheap whore' worth it." He smiles as if he had just made a joke, which he kind of had.

He wraps his arms around his waist and lifts him off of the bed, slipping him into his lap. Lambo winces, but accepts (wearily) the attention by resting his hands on the hitman's shoulders.

Quicker than a flash, his hand makes a grab for the phone. Reborn has it out of reach before he can even reach it. "Damn it, Reborn! You can't have that as your main screen, what if someone looks at it?" He stretches over Reborn, following the retreating phone.

A tongue trails over his nipple through his nightshirt. "If I _let _them see it, they will see my lover fucking himself with my gun, and will know without question that you belong to me."

"Eh heh heh… You're not going to let anyone see that, right?" He sounds a little too nervous for his own liking.

Reborn licks his thumb and stares at Lambo heatedly. "Make certain that no man or woman touches you with naughty thoughts in mind."

Lambo's head thumps against his shoulder. "This is going to hang over my head for the rest of my life, isn't it?"

"Yes." Lambo stretches further until Reborn's face is level with his ribs, still trying to get the elusive phone. "No good." Reborn lays him down and holds himself above him, one hand tangling with Lambo's and the other throwing the phone far away from the bed where it lands in an empty chair.

He huffs and glares at him. "Stupid Reborn!" He wraps his arms around the hitman's shoulders and jerks him down, mashing their lips together. Their tongues dance together and their lips bruise. "Stupid, stupid Reborn…" He breathes against Reborn's mouth, eye at half mast and cheeks a deep red. "When I kill you, that picture is going with you."

"When I die by something possible, of course; it will make me a happy man while I'm burning in hell." He agrees flippantly. Before Lambo can think about that statement, they're kissing again.

"_Yare, yare_, that's not a very comforting thought." Lambo eventually gets to say, panting somewhat and his shirt half unbuttoned. "Because you know that where ever you go, I have to follow to make sure that you don't get into any serious trouble."

"You won't be going to hell." Reborn twists one nipple and licks the other. "You're too stupid to have committed any crime of any kind that would damn you."

"Hey, hey, I'm not stupid… I'm smart enough to know that you shouldn't be doing what you're doing." His fingers tangle into his mass of spiky black hair anyway.

Reborn rolls his eyes up to stare at him. His tongue twirls wicked designs over Lambo's chest before nipping lightly. "You shouldn't have drunk the hot chocolate that lead to you fucking yourself on my gun." He bit down on Lambo's collarbone, hard enough to leave a lasting mark.

"Ah!" Lambo arches into the abuse. "That doesn't make me any less sore!"

"No." Reborn agrees, right before he slides his cow print pajama bottoms off of him and then raises his one leg over one shoulder. "But it will make you sorer." He drops his head and suckles on Lambo's inner thigh.

"Nnnh!" Lambo bites down on the knuckles of one hand and clenches the other between Reborn's shoulder blades. The mouth slid forward and then… _lower_, not towards his growing problem (how is that _possible_ after what he just went through!), but towards his swollen entrance.

Reborn flattens his tongue against it and, quite suddenly – _"Oooooh…"_ –, he doesn't have an argument anymore as the muscle weasels past reluctant muscles to wiggle against bruised walls. It's soothing and painful at the same time. He wraps his other leg over Reborn's shoulder. "Reborn!" He cries out. He can feel Reborn's smirk against the curve of his butt.

A finger joins the tongue and Lambo jolts. "Ooooohhh, Reborn… yessss…" He strokes a trembling hand between Reborn's shoulder blades. He claws at it when a second finger is added and he can feel each slippery digit reach deep inside of him – _Oh_… Reborn had gotten hold of the vanilla lotion. Clever Reborn!

He's making incoherent noises by the time Reborn sits back, his lips glistening and his eyes hot and desiring. Reborn starts to unbutton his pants, but Lambo makes a daring move; a move so daring, others would have been murdered for it before they even succeeded.

He grabs Reborn's yellow vest and – '_pop', 'pop', 'pop!'_ – trails his hands over the naked chest revealed. He's grinning like the small child he had once been, trailing his hands over two dusky nipples and then down hard abs and then to the waistband of his pants.

The hitman allows him his fun, leaning back to shoulder out of the jacket and vest and tie. He throws them with his expert skill and they land over the cell phone. The belt follows when Lambo whips it out of the loops and then the pants are simply discarded onto the edge of the bed.

Each of them is only wearing an article of clothing, Lambo his nightshirt and Reborn his fedora. In a moment, even the nightshirt is gone, two torn halves that float to the ground beside the bed.

"_Yare, yare_, I really liked that shirt." His lips are sealed by another pair.

Reborn lifts both of his legs over his shoulders, stroking one thigh as he uses his other hand to guide him into Lambo.

"_Ssssss!_" Lambo grits his teeth and grabs the hand at his thigh, holding on tightly. "Uuuuhhh…" Reborn is much bigger than four inches.

The hitman kisses his cheek, his neck, his chest, as he begins thrusting his length into him until he is fully encased. "_Reborn!_" Lambo gasps in a small, breathless voice. He's tense with pain, tears slipping from his eyes, but he watches Reborn with awe and… _love_; not that Lambo knows about the latter (not that Lambo knows that he had loved the hitman since first seeing him at who knows how young in who knows where. Not that Lambo knows that the obsession he had held for Reborn had nothing to do with bringing death. Not that Lambo even knows _now_ that Reborn is hilt deep inside his body).

He is explosively happy and relieved – amazingly enough because it feels like he is going to rip in half and simultaneously blow up – with no idea why.

"Reborn…" He moans now, arching back onto the hitman, his head thrown back against the sheets, offering his pale neck to the other.

It's nipped and sucked on by Reborn's mouth as each long thrust rocks the teenager against the bed. The pleasure is invading his every sense, drowning out the pain and making it hard to breathe. "Reborn!" His legs slip off of his shoulders and wrap around his waist. Reborn grabs one and pushes it back up, nearly touching it to Lambo's shoulder. "Aaaaaahh, AH! Uuuuuuhhh…" He makes a sound between a moan, a whine, and a gasp, one he never knew he could make.

Reborn's eyes catch fire and his lips twist into a life threatening grin. He bites Lambo's throat as he twists his hips and shoves flush into him, his sac slapping against the curve of Lambo's ass. Lambo makes the same sound again as he sees spots, Reborn hitting his prostate with ferocity.

He's exited and flipped over onto his hands and knees. Shaking and dazed, he looks over his shoulders at Reborn with a hazy, misty eye. He bucks his hips back, hoping to re-entice the hitman.

For his efforts, he is slammed into with no forewarning, sending his head crashing into the headboard with a cry of surprise and pain and then – at last – _pleasure_ that makes him forget to cry about his wounded skull and try to shove himself back onto the man's cock.

A hand wraps in his hair and pulls his head back and to the side; teeth nip at his revealed neck and a tongue licks up to the corner of his lips before covering them. Lambo whimpers, unable to breathe, to think, to even hold himself up as his body is violated _time_ and _time_ again. He kisses back with all of his might, gasping things even he doesn't understand against his lover's mouth.

His orgasm is explosive, sending him from the edge of bliss and agony into the sky at rocket speed and then lets him fall into an abyss. He is just barely conscious enough to watch as Reborn wipes a finger through the cum sticking to Lambo's belly and brings it to his mouth, licking the fluid off with a wicked look on his face.

He turns the limp guardian onto his side and enters him a third time. He doesn't have the strength to do anything but moan as Reborn thrusts into him. When the hitman breaches his orgasm, he wraps an arm around Lambo's waist and pulls him flush to his chest. He remains in Lambo's body, a thick, long length in him that makes him whimper tiredly.

After a few minutes in the afterglow, he chuckles. Reborn slips out of him and permits him to turn on his back so that he is looking at the hitman. "_Yare, yare_…" Lambo begins in a teasing voice, his one eye sparkling. "You still haven't taken the fedora off yet." He reaches up to do it himself.

He pauses right when his fingers are about to touch it; how far does Reborn's love go? Sure, he had let Lambo rip his shirt open, but how much _further_? Lambo only knows one person who had ever gotten to touch Reborn's hat and that had been Yamamoto (who had told them all much later after it had happened) who had done it for training purposes. In that situation, Yamamoto had still been in a death-like situation with Reborn.

He had never even seen Bianchi touch it even before Bianchi had found another to turn her obsessive love to.

Reborn watches him with a masked look, dark eyes even darker than usual. He's waiting for Lambo to try it and now Lambo has no clue how he is going to react when he does it.

Slowly – with trembling fingers – he grasps the rim of the fedora. He waits a moment… Since he isn't beaten to a pulp or shot at, he begins (_very_ carefully) taken the fedora off. It slips off of Reborn's head, letting black spiky hair spring back to fullness. He isn't dead, amazingly enough; so he sets the fedora down next to him and strokes a hand through his hair, feeling the soft strands between his fingers. He smiles delightedly as he adds another hand and buried them into the wealth of raven wing ebony.

"Ah hah hah…" He laughs softly, tweaking the curl of hair against Reborn's cheek. He is being so daring!

"Still want to go home?" There's a upward tilt to Reborn's lips as if he already knows the answer.

"Huh?" Lambo blinks at him, having had distracted himself. "_Yare, yare_…" He begins in a mellow voice. "and leave my archrival alone?" In other words: _Hell no._

He decides to do something usually referred to as 'suicidal' and picks the fedora back up; instead of placing it on Reborn's head, he places it on his own. He waits for seven tense (he's the only one tense) minutes to see if he suddenly dies or is crippled. Neither occurs, so he grins and tips the fedora over one eye and smiles at Reborn.

He's kissed with hard lips before Reborn releases him and lies down. "We have a long day tomorrow, you dumb cow. Be ready for it."

"_Yare, yare_! I'm not a dumb cow, stu-…" Reborn, he knows, is asleep. He doesn't snore bubbles like he used to as a kid, but Lambo had worked hard to be able to tell the difference between a conscious and unconscious hitman. "… Stupid Reborn…" He takes the fedora off and rests it on his own pillow. Hesitantly, he edges closer to Reborn and rests his head on his chest; he can feel his heartbeat against his ear. He wraps an arm around his abdomen and curls a leg over his thigh as his eye drifts shut.

It is, easily, the best sleep he had even gotten.

_**Author's Note: There are not going to be any more flashbacks… Sorry for that, but I know they are going to be a bad idea. The whole reason for them was to show that there had already been a relationship of sorts between them.**_

_**About this chapter… Reborn seems possibly a little (maybe very much) OOC. I, however, like it.**_


	13. Chicken Soup for the Soul

They had been walking the streets for half the day now, one turn after another stop and then down an alley, but it all leads nowhere.

Lambo can tell that, whoever the contact had been, Reborn plans to murder the liar. His face is stony, but there is a hardness to his lips and an edge to his eyes. Whoever they had originally been after, they postpone to instead hunt down the faulty contact.

Lambo had almost been sad for whoever it had been. And then lunch had ticked by with no food and now he rather hopes Reborn catches him soon.

He is _hungry_.

It isn't until nearly six in the afternoon that something happens.

They are walking through yet another alley, a pile of crates to one end of it and a dumpster near the opening. Reborn gives it cursory glance, starts to turn around – and then pauses. Lambo can see enough of his face to see the small quirk of one corner of his lips as he leaves the alley and continues walking.

Lambo looks down the alley, but doesn't see anything. After a moment, he walks after the hitman, frowning in thought. Had someone been hiding in the crates? Reborn was the kind of 'cat-and-mouse' hunter; a man who enjoys giving one last hope to his enemies before killing them coldly. Lambo is so used to it, it had never bothered him.

Behind him, there is the sound of wood falling and then a man is running out of the alleyway they had previously walked in to. It is the same bald, lanky man that had given the fake information to Reborn.

When the man goes down, no one is around to see it happen. He gives a blood curdling scream, but no one rushes to his aide. After all, they had seen Reborn, the renowned hitman of this part of Italy, walk into that same place, so they would not get in the way.

The man lies on the cobblestone, blood seeping from one thigh as he tries to stand again and run, but fails on both accounts.

'_click-clack' 'click-clack' 'click-clack' _goes Reborn's loafers against the ground as he stalks with sure intent to the fallen man. Lambo stays where he is, hands in his pockets, as he waits.

"_Sono stato minacciato! Se io non ti danno le indicazioni sbagliate, che stavano per uccidermi!_ ( - I was threatened! If I didn't give you the wrong directions, they were going to kill me!)" Blurts the man immediately. He's holding one hand up to ward off Reborn, his eyes wide and desperate and his bottom lip quivering.

Lambo can only see Reborn's back, but he knows well enough that there is a small, seemingly-appeased-but-actually-pissed smirk on his face. "_È così? Non hai mai pensato a cosa avrei fatto quando ho scoperto che mi hai tradito_? ( - Is that so? You never thought of what I would do when I found out that you cheated me?)" He points the gun between the man's eyes.

He screeches as if he were being torn apart. "Luhnghezza!" He wails, trying to crawl away. "_si nascondono in Luhnghezza!_ (they're hiding in Luhnghezza!)"

"Luhnghezza…?" There is a moment of suspense and then Reborn walks pass the man, gun hidden wherever it is Reborn holds it. Lambo cocks his head, but follows wordlessly.

Behind them, the man begins sobbing, only too relieved to still be alive.

"Are we going to Luhnghezza, then?" Lambo ventures, but goes unanswered. He glares at the back of Reborn's head; that stingy bastard could have at least acted a _little, tiny_ bit as if last night had happened. Somehow, though, he isn't actually annoyed and he isn't really surprised.

They walk back through town to their hotel. Lambo begins making porcini faro soup, nibbling on Panini buns while he does so.

He's holding the bun between his teeth as he boils the porcini, throwing in the salt, pepper, and dried oregano. He's stirring it all together when arms wrap around his waist and a body pushes flush to his back; he nearly drops the Panini in surprise.

"I've called Tsuna." Reborn states against his ear, his tongue flicking over the shell of it. "He wants us to return home, since the group is no longer here." A hand slips into his pants and trails over his manhood; the tease makes him buck. "So you will be getting your wish anyway, won't you?"

He had no clue what he was talking about for a moment. And then he remembered last night when he had said he wanted to go home… they were going home now, weren't they? That was kind of funny, actually… except he isn't laughing!

"R-Reborn! You can't do that while I'm cooking, I might burn myself!" Reborn doesn't listen to him, kissing his neck and using his free hand to pull the collar of Lambo's shirt out of his way as he licks over his shoulder. "_Yare, yare_, now you are feeling affectionate?" He can't help but be a little hurt that he had been ignored the whole day and only now realized.

'_What if… what if he is using me for sex?'_ The thought disheartens him; his mood goes from trying not to be horny to not horny in the least. Is he just being used?

He pushes at Reborn's head. "I'm cooking dinner." He whispers in a lower voice, his head ducked down so that his eyes are hidden.

He can't see it, but he feels Reborn's mood change as well. He's ripped away from the stove and slammed into the counter next to it, facing the hitman now. Fingers on his chin force his head up, but he just looks away.

"What's this?" Reborn's voice is a warning, demanding that he be obedient and answers the question. "Why so suddenly cold, cow?"

He shoves at his chest. "I'm not in the mood." His hands are caught and held above his head against the cupboards.

"Not in the mood?" A hand cups his face, a thumb teasing between his lips. "What a pathetic lie; now tell me the truth." He leans so close, his lips nearly touch Lambo's cheek. "Are you feeling insecure?" He doesn't wait for the guardian to even try to answer. "You feel used and lied to." He's being rhetorical now. "Guess what?" He purrs near Lambo's ear.

His hand on Lambo's tightens to the point of pain and Lambo is pressed with bruising force to the counter. He cries out in pain, tears trickling from his eyes. He looks at Reborn through one, hurt eye, his lips trembling.

Reborn returns it with a cruel smirk. "It pisses me off." He states so blithely, it belies the black fury in his eyes. Lambo begins shaking, afraid – he's shaking altogether –, but he doesn't start wailing. He is far too scared to wail, even though he knows that where Reborn is holding him is going to hurt for days and he has wailed over much less. Reborn's cruel smirk fades slowly and the fury dies into emptiness. "I have lied when it comes to many things; but there is one thing I have never lied about." His grip loosens and he backs off enough that Lambo can breathe properly.

He doesn't kiss Lambo on the lips; he kisses away each tear with a tender softness. "I would never lie about loving someone I do not. I told you I love you, didn't I?" He kisses underneath his jaw where one tear had trailed. "And then we made sweet love – why would I consider your pleasure if I was only striving for my own?"

Lambo watches him through one teary eye. He wants to ask 'than why do you hurt me?' or 'Why do you ignore me?', but he already knows the answers. Reborn is… Reborn. He hurts everyone (in physical ways) because it either teaches them something or… they so happen to be Lambo. He ignores everything not important to what he's doing. Lambo isn't important in this mission, not in any mission.

His hands are released and that haughty air is back; the arms drop around his waist and lift him onto the counter. "Kiss me." The hitman suggests.

Lambo blinks. "Wha?"

"Kiss me," He says again in a low voice. "or you can be on the flight home tonight and hide until you die."

"EH!" Lambo's eye widens. Why would he have to do that?

"Because, if you don't, I will find you and you will never be free of me. I am not the man that admits to loving someone and then lets that person walk away whenever they are upset with me or they think they find something better." He says all of this, but his eyes are strange voids.

Lambo ducks his head; _'so scary…'_ "_Yare, yare_… You could have just said 'kiss me' and then stop there." His arms are coming up and circling his shoulders. "Stupid Reborn… You really could have just said that you honestly do love me and left the rest out." He's lifting his face up, eye at half-mast. "If I wasn't so used to your threats… that might have made me run away in fear." His lips are about to touch Reborn's when he smiles. "We have a really strange relationship." It is a soft kiss which conveys a message to Reborn that Lambo doesn't realize: _'I love you too.'_

Strangely enough, he still has not a clue his true emotions for the hitman. Others would have actually left or later on called the police, saying that their lover had become abusive and had threatened them. Really, what else is there to expect from Reborn? He's cruel, he's mean, and he's thoughtless of others emotions, but that is just Reborn. Reborn had treated him this way his entire life, the only new factor being that they had never made love before… and it was the first time that Reborn had ever threatened him for _not_ following him.

It was kind of cute, because, if you think about it and rearrange the words a little, you get: _'I don't want you to leave me.'_ Which Reborn would never outright say because he is _Reborn_, the greatest hitman on earth with the personality to go with it.

He has a hand buried in the spiky glossy black hair, the other clutching into the sleeve of his jacket, while he opens his mouth and lets Reborn's searching tongue in. There is a tango and a war simultaneously as Lambo thrusts his chest into Reborn's, urging to be touched.

A hand slips up beneath his cow print shirt and pinches one nipple – is something burning?

"GAH! The soup!" He squirms, but there is no escape.

"We are going out tonight." States Reborn as if that had been the plan all along. He shuts off the stove and then leaves the pot to itself, the contents off it half on the stove surface and the other half inedible.

"This is your fault!" He tries in vain to free himself from the cage of Reborn's arms.

"Yes." He leaves the stove for the clean up crew to have fun with, lifting Lambo up and over one shoulder.

"Reborn!" He grabs the tails of Reborn's jacket and tugs; he gets no response.

They're in the eye of the public by the time Lambo falls still. There are people _staring_. He expects, at any moment, Reborn to dump him on the ground, but he doesn't. As a matter of fact, he seemed to have forgotten that he had Lambo over his shoulder, even though he keeps an arm curled around his waist.

He isn't released until they had entered the restaurant and found a table. Reborn sits across from him at the booth, jaw in hand and smirk on lips. Lambo glowers at him.

"I could have walked." Reborn doesn't even dignify him with an answer.


	14. Puck'em up

"You wanted to see me, Vongola?" Lambo stands before the desk of Tsuna, hands in pockets and mellow attitude in place.

Tsuna looks up at him, flushes, and then looks away, somewhere over his head. "Y-Yeah…" He ruffles his hair and then squares his shoulders; he takes a meaningful stance in his chair, giving Lambo his serious face. "Lambo, I want to know when you enter a relationship, no matter how fickle!" He begins with a strong voice. "Because-! …" He loses the macho attitude. "Because you can tell me anything, you know that, right?" He sounds like a father trying to fit into a new family.

Lambo blinks, confused. "Alright… Vongola, if I might ask…what brought this up?" He's tempted to check if any hickeys are visible on his neck, but he refrains.

It wasn't like he was _hiding_ anything…

Tsuna coughs and looks away. "You were – uuuh – limping yesterday…" He lifts his hands in a warding way. "Not that that means that you _are_ in a relationship with a guy, but, I just know what it looks like –" He flushes darkly. "I've _know_ things." He finishes lamely.

Lambo gulps and looks away as well, flustered. "Well, Vongola…" He thinks about how to say what he is about to say.

"Reborn is fucking him."

"GAH! Hibari!" Behind Lambo stands the most dangerous guardian the Vongola family has to offer, tonfas in hand.

"You're crowding."

"What?" His voice is shrill with fear. "I'm not crowding! I'm the only one here! Well, except for Vongola, but he's over _there_! –" He not so wisely ducks the tonfa and then runs before the mistake could catch up with him and the man views it as a challenge.

Once he is out of sight, Hibari turns back to the flushed and trembling Tsuna. "It is exactly 5:02 in the afternoon."

"I-is it? I didn't notice…" Tsuna tries to busy himself with the papers on his desk.

"You are avoiding me." _One… two… three… _Tsuna is held between his lover and the wall, one tonfa choking the air out of him. "I will not stand for it."

"H-Hibari, stop!" He didn't stop; his free hand undid the buckle of Tsuna's pants and then shoved them down, revealing Tsuna. "You are being difficult. Don't you love me?"

"I can't do this!" He shoves him away, or at least tries to. "_Seven years_! We've been together for seven years and you have never once showed me anything!" He manages to at least slip out of the guardian's chokehold.

Hibari's eyes are narrowed down on him. "You are being unreasonable." He grabs his wrist and twists until Tsuna cries out. "It has been seven years, why start complaining now."

'_Because I saw Yamamoto and Gokudera kiss like they were going to die if they didn't.'_ Seeing that… it had occurred to him… for seven years, he had been content to read into Hibari's cold attitude, ecstatic to be his cloud guardian's lover, and pleased to spend whatever time he could with the wandering man.

"I have things I have to do." He finally whispers, unable to look up at Hibari. "Can't we talk later?"

"Talk about what? How I am not the man you suddenly wish to have?" Tsuna winces. "I will give you till nightfall; by then, be in my room or don't be." He releases Tsuna and steps back; he turns around and walks out of the room, leaving a shaken Tsuna behind.

…'_I'm going to be sick!'_ And so he was – three times over. Why, he had no clue; but he learned something. It hurts, crying and throwing up at the same time.

He retreats to the living room with a glass of water when he's done, curling up on the couch.

"You dumb cow! That isn't how you solve the damn problem!" Next comes the sound of a fist hitting skull and then the unmistakable wail of pain. "SHUT UP!"

"H-Hey, Gokudera! Lambo!" He rushes to the doorway, just in time to catch them before they turn another corner. They're in relationships – he can talk to them. He doesn't know what he wants to talk about or even if he _wants_ to talk, but he doesn't want to be alone.

They both turn at his voice, Lambo clutching at his head and sniffling while Gokudera's expression lights up like a child at Christmas. "Tenth! – TENTH! What's wrong? Did someone hurt you!" Gokudera grabs him by his shoulders and looks into his eyes with panic.

It takes a moment before Tsuna remembers he hadn't rinsed his face after crying, so it would be tear stained and his eyes would be red. He rubs at his eyes, shaking his head. "N-no, no one hurt me… I was just wondering -… I was wondering what problem you two were talking about!"

Gokudera looks back at Lambo, Lambo looks back at Gokudera; each grab one arm and drag Tsuna back into the room, shutting and locking the door behind them, and dropped him back on the couch. Both of them look down at him with expectant expressions.

… It takes three minutes before he cracks. "Hibari has never kissed me!" That was apparently the last thing either of them had expected.

"Wh-what! But you've been with him for seven years! How could he have never kissed you? Tenth deserves better!" It's safe to say that Gokudera is fairly pissed at the neglect to his darling Tenth.

"_Yare, yare_, how does that happen?" Lambo tilts his head curiously, mellow attitude in place. For the first time in a while, Gokudera doesn't declare it a stupid question.

"Do you want me to kick his ass, Tenth? I'll do it!"

"No!" Tsuna grabs him by the sleeves of his coat and holds. "Don't attack him, Gokudera!" Gokudera falls into silence and sits next to Tsuna.

Lambo takes his other side. He wraps an arm around Tsuna's shoulders and cuddles against his shoulder. "What do you want to do?"

"I… I don't know. I wanted to be with you guys, but I don't know why." He curled his knees up to his chest and leaned against Gokudera while pulling Lambo closer, using the two as living teddy bears.

"You need the comfort, Tenth!" Gokudera nuzzles his chin into his hair.

"…Vongola…" Lambo ventures after a few minutes of silence. "Why did it take you seven years to realize that he had never kissed you?"

"Dumb cow, don't insult the Tenth's intelligence!" 'Thwak!' Lambo begins sniffling, whispering his 'gotta-be-calm' mantra to himself until he is actually able to suck it up for once. "Tenth didn't notice because -! … Because…"

"I did notice, though." Tsuna pets Lambo's back. "I just… didn't care until now. When I got into the relationship with Hibari, I always knew three things: 1. I would always be protected. 2. I would always be in a life or death war with him. 3. Our relationship wasn't going to be like anyone else's. When half a year went by and he still didn't kiss me, I just dismissed it as one of those quirks that he wouldn't partake in because he's Hibari and Hibari doesn't do many affectionate things."

Lambo cocks his head. "Than why are you upset about it now, Tenth?" Gokudera beats Lambo to the punch line.

The Vongola blushes like there would be no tomorrow. He scoots (subtly) away from Gokudera as he laughs nervously. "Well – umm… I saw you and Yamamoto together… and it looked…." The nervousness fades away and so does his forced smile.

'_It looked like love put into an action; Gokudera with one arm wrapped around his shoulders, the other around his waist, his head tilted back and his body flush to Yamamoto's. It had looked like there should have been spotlights on them, but at the same time, it had been almost too intimate to look at, like they were already making love.' _He rubs a hand over his eyes; he doesn't know how to put that into words without dying of embarrassment.

"… It made me think…" He settles for lamely. "- How would Hibari kiss me? I bet every couple has a different kiss, kind of like everyone has a different fingerprint."

Both Gokudera and Lambo flush and look away from Tsuna and each other; Gokudera puts the back of his hand to his mouth and Lambo nibbles his bottom lip. Tsuna looks from one to the other and sighs despairingly, knowing that he's right.

"Well, maybe that's what I'll do for you, Tenth!" Gokudera says suddenly, looking back at Tsuna with lit eyes and a cattish grin.

"Do what for me?"

"I'll show you how Takeshi kisses me and you'll see if that's how Hibari would kiss!" The storm guardian presents it all with gusto, as if it's the greatest plan in the world!

There is horror in both Tsuna's and Lambo's face, belying Gokudera's idea. "Gokudera… that's not such a smart idea. I mean, Hibari would _kill_ me if he found out that I kissed someone who isn't him, much less two people! And I bet Yamamoto wouldn't appreciate it either!" The thought makes him flush red as he remembers something; he turns to look at his other guardian. "Was it true when Hibari said that you and Reborn are in a relationship?"

"WHAT! REBORN AND THE DUMB COW?" Gokudera falls off one edge of the couch, cowering away from the thunder guardian as if he were diseased.

Lambo face plants into his hands. "He didn't know, Vongola… No one knew." Tsuna is staring with a strained smile and disbelieving eyes down at the fallen silverette. "We weren't _hiding_ it, but no one knew… except Hibari, I guess."

"Why would Reborn be in a relationship with you!" Gokudera, amazingly enough, doesn't sound disgusted – only shocked out of his mind, which is understandable seeing as how Lambo had spent most of his life being ignored and/or abused by the hitman.

Lambo shrugs. "I don't know." He puts a finger to his bottom lip, his eye becoming warm and distant as his cheeks dust with warm color. "But he is and he's threatened me if I dare leave him." He leans back against the couch.

After a moment, Gokudera actually calms back down and takes his place back on the couch. "Well, that only means that we can both kiss you how our lovers kissed us and you can see which would be more like that cold bastard!" He says with coolness as if there was no greater way to go about it in the world.

"That's even _worse_, Gokudera! And then Reborn will shoot me to death while Hibari is biting me to death! I'll die _twice_ at the same time!"

"_Yare, yare!_ Don't put my butt on the line for something that won't even work!"

"How do you know it won't work, you dumb cow! We haven't even tried it yet!" He grabs both of Tsuna's hands and holds them in his own. "Please trust me, Tenth! This will work, I know it will! You believe in me, right?"

The Vongola looks torn. "I don't know…" Gokudera continues to give him that puppy dog look. "… I guess… if they never find out…?"

"I won't let you down, Tenth!" Gokudera laughs and hugs him tightly.

Before Tsuna could say another word (much less breathe), Gokudera tilts his head up and rests his lips over his. It's soft and sweet; like cotton candy instead it isn't so sickly sugary. And, right when he thinks he can feel a hum through his lips at the pleasantness of it, the pressure deepens – steals what air he has and suddenly his mind is in a mist as a tongue ventures through his mouth and tangos with his own, teasing it to life and then to dance. He is about to melt when Gokudera pulls away, panting somewhat and with a proud smirk on his lips. He swipes a thumb over his wet lips.

"The baseball freak's an idiot in just about everything, but the one thing he's good at is kissing." To believe that he would even admit to that truth is unbelievable, but Tsuna has to agree; if that's how Yamamoto kisses, no wonder Gokudera loves him. "It's the dumb cow's turn." Gokudera leans back and crosses one leg over the other, the air of someone who knows that they're the best.

Lambo flinches. "I never agreed to do this."

Before Gokudera can get into a war with him, Tsuna puts a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Lambo… I didn't either…" But now he's curious – Yamamoto's kiss began slow and sweet, and then had escalated into something naughty and possessive. How would Reborn kiss? Well, how had Reborn taught Lambo to kiss? Not that he _wants_ to kiss Lambo (it's the honest truth; he was around to watch him pick his nose and pull who knows what from his hair), but he wants to _know_.

The teenager stares at him as if he could read his mind. He sighs and chuckles lightly. "_Yare, yare_… I'm going to catch hell for this later."

A finger and a thumb tips Tsuna's chin and – right when Tsuna thinks Lambo is going to kiss him – his bottom lip is nipped and sucked on for a small moment, exciting a gasp of surprise from him. In that moment, Lambo covers his mouth with his, licking his tongue. It isn't slow and sweet like Gokudera's (Yamamoto's), but it's soft in a sort of dark way, like an open secret; he feels the pressure of lips on lips, teeth against his bottom lip, a tongue battling his – it's a war where there is no way to win against the person who begins the kiss.

Gokudera yelps a moment before Lambo is ripped away from Tsuna. "My naughty cow is kissing no good Tsuna with the storm guardian as a witness; I bet there is an interesting excuse for this." Reborn has Lambo by the cuff of his collar, his back to Reborn's front as he lifts a hand and wipes a thumb over Lambo's lips before sinking the appendage into the teenager's mouth. Lambo makes a sound that is so erotic and so damn _vulnerable_, that everyone in the room shivers.

With the possible exception of Yamamoto, who holds Gokudera around the waist with one arm and has his other hand on the silverette's inner thigh. "Mah, mah, that was quite a show! I got to watch two beauties kiss a third pretty face!" He leans forward until his lips drift over Gokudera's ear. "It makes me excited!"

Tsuna flushes and tries to bunch into him; _Oh shit!_ He's going to die! He was caught by both Yamamoto and Reborn kissing their lovers! "Reborn! Y-Yamamoto! Heh heh, I can explain this!"

"Please do." Reborn watches him with a glowing eye, the shadows sloping too darkly over the other from the fedora to be seen.

"Well, you see… Uuumm… Uuuuuhhhhh…"

"If Tenth doesn't want to tell, he doesn't have to! Isn't that right, Tenth?" Gokudera cheeks are glowing bright red and he is trying to shove away Yamamoto's ever wandering hand from where it's trying to cup him.

"You're right, he doesn't have to." Reborn's lips twist cruelly and he whispers something quietly into Lambo's ear. The teenager pales and then fires up and then whimpers, knees visibly knocking together as he goes limp against Reborn's chest.

"Hibari has never kissed Vongola!" He slouches as if he had gotten rid of a large weight.

"Traitor!" Gokudera goes to hit Lambo, but is held back by an arm across his chest and one tickling his lower belly.

Yamamoto frowns. "Really? Hhhhmmm…" He tilts his head up and looks to the ceiling thoughtfully. After a moment, he smiles and laughs. "I never noticed!"

He's hit square in the jaw by his lover. "How couldn't you notice that the Tenth wasn't loved by his psychotic, selfish, sadistic, trigger-happy, mocking asshole of a lover!" Behind Gokudera, Lambo goes bug eyed and carefully looks away, knowing that most of those traits also applied to his own lover.

"_Yare, yare_, you didn't notice either, Gokudera." Yamamoto almost isn't strong enough to stop the silverette after that, but he manages.

Tsuna looks from one couple to the other. Reborn cocks his head towards him. "Jealousy isn't the way to get back at your lover, no good Tsuna; it is a very bad way to die by your lover."

"We weren't doing it to make Hibari jealous!" Tsuna defends loudly, eyes earnest. He quiets down as both Yamamoto and Reborn stare at him, waiting for the reason. "We did it so I could guess what Hibari's kiss would be like… he doesn't partake in everyday affections, so I don't want to bother him for something he won't enjoy…"

There's a moment of contemplative silence…

"Hah hah hah!" Yamamoto strokes a hand over Gokudera's calf. "Tsuna, have you ever thought about kissing him instead of him kissing you? Part of being a lover is saying what you want, not holding back what they don't say outright they want." He smirks and it is the most dangerous look neither Tsuna nor Lambo had ever seen. "How else would Hay-kun and I had started dating?" He earns an elbow into his gut.

"Stop talking, baseball freak! … And stop touching there!" He snaps his thighs together, catching Yamamoto's hand between them and seemed to try and break the hand using sheer thigh muscle power. He either failed, or Yamamoto was a masochist, because the rain guardian only laughed.

"Yamamoto has a point, Vongola."

"Don't agree with the freak, you dumb cow!" Unable to attack him himself, he grabs the loose tie from around Yamamoto's neck (choking him momentarily, most likely making Gokudera a little happier), wads it up, and hits Lambo bull's eye in the forehead with it.

"_Yare, yare_, that was pathetic, even by your standards. You should have stuck to the bombs instead of the rings and boxes." Yet he still curls fearfully against Reborn's chest, going as far as to wrap his arms around Reborn's shoulders and raise his legs to his chest. He is humored by Reborn, who wraps an arm around his waist in assistance.

"What a dirty little secret to keep, no good Tsuna, kissing the lovers of your subordinate and tutor." He smirks. "However, since it has already happened, we might as well go all the way and make your lover envious." He grasps Lambo under the arms and pushes him back onto the couch next to Tsuna.

Lambo, Tsuna, and Gokudera stare with wide eyes at Reborn; Yamamoto smirks, understanding. The rain guardian grasps Gokudera's chin and tilts it back and to the side so that their gazes meet. "I think I know what the kid's getting at!" Even 12 years later when Reborn is obviously not a 'kid', Yamamoto still refers to him as such. "Why don't you show Tsuna how to kiss again, Hay-kun?"

"Wh-what?" Gokudera squeaks (in a manly voice, of course). He realizes what's going on when Reborn and Yamamoto pull out their cell phones and point the cameras at them. "No way!"

"What if Tsuna wants to?" Bingo, Yamamoto strikes the right nerve.

"Do you want to, Tenth?" Yamamoto waits with earnest eyes for an answer.

Tsuna can only stare faintly between the two couples; only Lambo seemed as shocked as him, but just barely. "Wait… you guys want Lambo and Gokudera to kiss me again… just so you can take pictures and send them to _Hibari_?" Neither say anything, but their smirks are answer enough. "_No_!"

Reborn leans a hand on the back of the couch and bends over Lambo; he leans down and nips behind Lambo's ear before whispering (again, quietly enough that no one else can hear) into it. The thunder guardian is quivering by the time Reborn leans away.

"Forgive me, Vongola; it's something I have to do." Hands are braced on Tsuna's shoulders and the thunder guardian slips into his lap as if it's only natural. Gokudera chokes and stares with wide, half horrified, half shocked, eyes; Yamamoto only kisses the corner of his lips, holding one hand on his chin and the other around his waist.

Tsuna colors darkly. "L-Lambo!"

"And you swear you're not going to show anyone _that_?" Lambo ignores Tsuna, turning his head slightly to look up at his smug lover. "I think this classifies as my touching another man or woman."

"No good Tsuna is the exception; he's obviously not a woman and just as obviously not a man." He ignores Tsuna's choked 'H-hey!' and tips Lambo's head back, swiping his tongue over the guardian's bottom lip before biting it sharply; the mark beads a small bit with blood. "Now." He holds his phone up.

"N-now what- Mmph!" Lambo's kiss tastes bloody, but there is the unmistakable sugary goodness of candy and tartness of green grapes. The first kiss had been too fast beat, too deep, to concentrate on that, but now it floods his senses as if the scents of a feast were wafting about him.

He can't believe that's kissing the boy he had once considered like a son, much less the fact that it doesn't actually feel that awkward. He feels the skill, the excitement, the feel of Lambo; but he doesn't feel the heat or the lust.

His eyes slide shut and he tilts his chin, allowing the dance of tongues, the clack of teeth, and the moistness of lips. He holds onto Lambo's shoulders as the teenager holds onto his.

It must have lasted not much longer than a moment before Lambo disappears from him and into Reborn's arms. "No good Tsuna; don't have dirty dreams about my naughty cow." He tips his fedora to Yamamoto and leaves, a shivering Lambo in arms as he saunters away.

Tsuna puts the back of his hand to his mouth and stares after them with a hot blush.

"Mah, mah; it's your turn, Hay-kun!" Yamamoto laughs softly. "Don't get any dirty thoughts, Tsuna." He pushes lightly Gokudera to Tsuna.

The silverette gulps and Tsuna stares at him like a doe caught in the headlights. "… Don't forget to take the pictures, you baseball freak!" Gokudera growls over one shoulder before leaning forward. He cups Tsuna's cheek and tilts his head before covering his lips with his own.

He can taste smoke and spices on his tongue as it tangles with Gokudera's

A spark goes off in his mind and he rushes to his feet. "Sorry, Gokudera; thanks for your help! Bye, Yamamoto!" He runs, leaving both confused men behind him.

It isn't nearly nightfall, but he still runs to Hibari's room, shoving the door open and then slamming it shut behind him; he pants somewhat with the exertion, but it becomes heavier when he sees his lover sitting on the edge of his bed, checking his phone messages.

He looks up at Tsuna with sharp eyes. "And this?" He turns the screen towards Tsuna, open to a picture of Lambo in Tsuna's lap, tongue tied with said Vongola. "Did you already make your decision?"

"Yeah, I did!" He can't believe it, but he smiles like the cat with the cream. "But not the one you think! You see – " He begins speeding through an explanation. " – Gokudera and Lambo were showing me what a kiss was like because you've never kissed me before and that really had me depressed but then Reborn and Yamamoto caught them and decided to make you jealous, but when Reborn and Lambo left and Gokudera was kissing me, I realized that it wasn't the _kiss_ itself that's important in a kiss – " Now he finally breathes. His cheeks flush cutely. "It is how you form it, give it, and receive it – what it _tastes_ like."

He plops down into his guardian's lap, wrapping his arms around his shoulders; he's glares at for his efforts, but not 'bitten to death'. "_That's_ why you've never kissed me; because every time we touch, it's like its own kiss except it's in motion and not so wet."

Hibari stares at him, phone still in one hand and other hand resting on Tsuna's thigh. "You realize that you cheated on me with two other men and are now acting as if you never did. I _should_ bite you to death."

Tsuna pales and looks down and away; why hadn't _that_ crossed his mind earlier? Or had it, but he had just dismissed it because it hadn't felt like cheating? For kissing two of his guardians _twice_, he hadn't felt bad about it… until now that Hibari was looking at him with cold, cool gray eyes.

Fingers dig into the skin of his jaw, forcing him to look back up; that tiny, small smirk that was nearly indiscernible but somehow so obvious, is in place. "Or maybe I will just fuck you until you can't stand." He slides a hand up Tsuna's shirt, unbuttoning it with smooth, subtle movements of the fingers.

Tsuna flushes, but nods, entranced by the twist of lips. The turn even further up under his stare. "And, perhaps, I'll kiss you so you will stop fantasizing about it and going off to kiss herbivores." Tsuna gasps, daring to hope. "It excites you, the thought of being kissed by me." It's not a question because his erection is poking Hibari's lower belly; he becomes an even darker shade of red (unbelievably enough).

Lips slant over his with harsh, unnecessary force. It is wet and slightly uncomfortable, with noses bumping teeth clacking accidentally together. It takes a moment before it occurs to Tsuna that, in the seven years they had been together, Hibari had never kissed him; if Hibari had not kissed him, why would he kiss anyone else? This meant that – when it came to kisses – Tsuna was actually more educated with the few kisses he had just received.

He wants to laugh, but he doesn't; he urges Hibari to soften his lips using his own and then uses his tongue to tease Hibari's out of its dormant state. He feels the tension coiling in Hibari, who hated having control taken from him, so he returns to lax against him, submitting to his will with a smile.

He's dumped onto the bed, but the kiss never ends, tongues warring, lips locked, teeth clacking (purposefully now) and mouths pressing with bruising force. He doesn't know how their clothes are ripped off when they never stop kissing, but, somehow, the headboard is creaking against the wall and they're short on breath, bodies melding together over and over again.

Tsuna can taste Sakura blossoms and cool night air; it is officially his favorite taste in the world.

_**Author's Note: This chapter was inspired by Youtube's 'Goku/Lambo, Yamamoto/Goku, Reborn/Lambo [Wait until Dark], except it had absolutely nothing to do with Tsuna and only Yamamoto caught Gokudera and Lambo in the act (they weren't cheating; I can't exactly explain what was going through their heads.**_


	15. Closet Case Pervert

"Ooooh, Uh! Uuuuh Hah –ah! AAAH!" He arches off of the bed, skin glistening and hair plastered to his forehead. His hands claw at the bed covers and his toes curl. _Suck, suck, suck_, his body keeps milking his lover's cock until he swore he could feel him on his tongue.

He's exited, brought to his knees, entered again with enough force to make him – "AAAAAAH!" – scream and collapse his upper body to the bed surface as he is slammed mercilessly into from behind. He can't cum again; he has already cummed so many other times, he couldn't _possibly_ – but, oh look, he can… and he does. All over the bed covers and his belly. And, yet, it doesn't stop. It is _unstoppable_.

"H-how c-ca-aaaaaahhh-n-nah!- AH! K-k-ke-eeeeeeaaaahhh-e-_eeee_-p d-d-d-AAAAAH! Doing this! H-how!" He goes unanswered, only continuously pounded into the bed. Each thrust is ruthless, fierce, and almost animalistic in its absolute power. "I c-c-c-AAAAAAAAAAHHHH!" Again, his orgasm dampens the blankets. He sobs, clawing at the covers, panting and yelping and grunting with each and every shove of his lover's hips.

Finally, there is sweet reprieve; the hot, long, and thick length leaves his abused ass to pulse painfully in peace, but he is grabbed by the hair at the nape of his neck until he's sitting back, head turned towards his lover, mouth gaping open and cheeks flushed.

His lover gives him a beautifully, _dangerously_, beastly grin; his lover takes a hand to his still rock hard cock and removes – as what he now realizes as the cause for his lover never cumming with him – a cock ring. "Thirsty?" Comes the soft, amused voice of his lover into his ear. "Drink, then." His head is urged with a hand to the back of his scalp down onto the length.

Unable to think of a reason why _not _to, he opens his mouth and laps the head of the length, tasting the salt of precum and the tang of his own inner body. He hollows his cheeks and sucks on as much as he can, humming around the velvet heat. His lover's hips buck once, twice, thrice, and then his seed is all he can taste all the way down his throat.

It's the sexiest aroma there ever was, but he would never admit to it.

When he swallows all that he can and licks away the rest, he rests his tired head on his lover's thigh, too exhausted to move and too sore to try. It takes him 15 minutes before he can even raise the energy to sock his lover in the gut, making his lover grunt and then laugh.

"Mah mah, Hay-kun!" His lover rolls onto his back and drags him up his body until his head rests over his lover's heart. "Was I that rough?"

"You fucking freak, you _raped_ me, it was that rough." He bites down on the nipple he can reach, making sure to draw blood.

"I didn't know you had a rape scenario fetish; you liked it a lot!" He's given that charming smile the rest of the world is given by the baseball freak – it's a _lie_. The asshole isn't that nice! He's a _bastard_ who is actually a wolf in sheep clothing!

"I said no, you jackass, but you went on with it anyway!" He slams a fist into his jaw.

"Ah hah hah hah!" Yamamoto grabs his wrist and kisses his knuckles. "I couldn't help it; it was all Hay-kun's fault. Being so sexy, kissing the boss… Two gorgeous, adorable boys embracing before my eyes… Ah hah hah! I should be jealous, but I'm not! I actually want to see you kiss Lambo too…" He trails a finger from Gokudera's belly button to his sharp hipbone. He speaks with the mildly amused tone that is his 'usual attitude' (lies! Gokudera knows that it is a scam personality!); yet his eyes are sensually dark and the smile on his lips is a carnal tilt of male power.

"That would be a dream come true; watching you kiss Lambo like I kiss you; make him look like how I make you look…" He sighs in mock sadness. "Alas, I doubt that Reborn would let us borrow his cute, little lover." He ignores Gokudera's growl of annoyance and hums thoughtfully. "Mah mah, I know!" He strokes a hand over Gokudera's ass, smearing his fingers in the juicy mess between the perfectly round cheeks. "Let's have a foursome!"

"_NOT IF MY LIFE DEPENDED ON IT, YOU FUCKING BASTARD, IDIOT BASEBALL FREAK, SON OF A BITCH!"_ For his efforts, Gokudera slaps him across the face and then jabs him in the stomach with his elbow. "If I could walk away right now, I would!"

His lover, after panting for a moment over his wounded gut, smiles again. "But you can't!" He wraps his arms around Gokudera's back and cuddles the silverette into his chest. "So I get you all to myself and there is nothing you can do about it."

He huffs and bites down on his lover's collarbone; again, hard enough to draw blood, but Yamamoto does nothing in revenge. "… Idiot…" He rests his head over his lover's heart, keeping a grumpy face and a tense posture; despite it, he feels himself begin to fall asleep. He's too tired to fight the freak right now.

It's just as he is on the edge of rest that Yamamoto snaps his fingers. "Ah! I almost forgot! You were looking so cute, I forgot to wish you a good night's sleep!" Gokudera flinches and growls at him without opening his eyes. Lips drift over his forehead. "I love you, Hay-kun! Sleep well!"

"I would if you would just shut up!"

_**Author's Note: I honestly do believe that Yamamoto is a closet case happy pervert.**_


	16. Shocker

He is so completely wrapped up by Reborn, he can't even _try_ to get out; _literally_ speaking.

The hitman has one arm across his chest, one across his belly, a leg between his and curled around his bottom leg (He's lying on his side), his other leg throw over the higher thigh, and his head resting on his shoulder. His eyes are open, but they're glazed – meaning that he is asleep.

This is really bad, because Lambo really has to go to the bathroom or else he is going to piss in the bed and no one is going to be happy about that.

He began a fruitless wiggle that only ended up in Reborn biting the back of his neck and a hand between his legs, cupping his manhood. He gasped and slapped both hands over his mouth, trying to be careful not to be _too_ loud. He wants out, but he doesn't want to wake the Reborn up; that is a disaster that doesn't have to happen.

He begins tugging and pulling a bit more until he is free of one leg and one arm and then manages to slip out of the rest, the whole process taking a ridiculously long time that makes him squirm with the need he has. He _has_ to _pee_; and Reborn isn't _helping_ by grabbing his thigh and squeezing.

He waddles to the bathroom and relieves himself (it makes him so happy; he could have started a musical). He washes his hands; after a moment, he also rinses off his belly (and with another small pause in which he flushes darkly) and his butt of last night's juices. He runs a tired hand across his face, rubbing his eyes. Now more at ease, he saunters at a lazier pace back into the bedroom, stretching his arms above his head and arching his back with a pleasant groan. He trails a finger across a water drop resting on his hipbone.

He moans as he crawls back into bed, reaching a hand out to grab Reborn and be a tangle of limbs again. He mumbles when his hand comes into contact with nothing. He reaches further and – ah hah! – he grabs a hold of something; he's half-upset to feel that it is wearing clothes, but already mostly asleep again. If Reborn wants to leave, he can do so after Lambo goes back to sleep.

He becomes more upset when he manages to drag his lover to him instead of using Reborn to drag himself to him. And then he is completely confused when Reborn is small enough that he is no bigger than his chest.

He opens an eye slowly, blinking it into focus.

"Ciaossu."

"GAH! YOUNGER REBORN!" He flinches so hard, he falls off the side of the bed, dragging a blanket with him. He peeks over the side of it fearfully; for someone that just saw him naked, Reborn is keeping a calm, collected face.

… And still looks like a baby. The curse of the Arcobaleno, Lambo remembers. Only Lal, who had been an incomplete Arcobaleno, had been able to age, if he wasn't misinformed.

After a moment of staring at each other, Lambo takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair, shoulders slouching. "_Yare, yare_, this is awkward…" He glances at the Arcobaleno. "I thought the 10 years bazooka was taken away after we came back from the future?" He makes it a question; how else would younger Reborn be here?

"It was. It was accidentally found again and we decided to see if it still worked."

"You volunteered?" He is, not surprisingly, doubtful of that. Why would younger Reborn do that?

"No good Tsuna wouldn't decide fast enough."

"Ah." Lambo puts his elbows on the side of the bed and his chin into one palm. "You do realize that young Vongola and who else was there are going to catch an eye full. You weren't exactly descent when you fell asleep."

"I figured as much." Reborn cocks his head. "You're my lover." It isn't a question, but Lambo nods anyway. "Why would I sleep with a dumb cow?" He watches as Lambo chuckles amusedly.

"Had I known that, as a child, all I had to do was moon you and you would start talking to me more, I would have done it." At even eight years old, Reborn had ignored him as if he had not existed. And now, after seeing Lambo naked, he was suddenly oh-so talkative, wasn't he?

"You haven't answered my question."

Lambo smiles (unaware of how loving or warm he looks as he gazes upon younger Reborn) and ruffles a hand through his hair. "It was _your_ idea. All I know is that it happened when I was around nine." He brushes his bottom lip with a finger, cheeks dusted with color. He sighs and stretches his shoulders lazily, relaxing again. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to tell you that everyone is alive and well and that Byakuran has never been a bother, much less an existence, in our lives."

"And no good Tsuna broke the Acrobaleno curse, I see." Reborn gives a small smirk of pride for his formerly hopeless student.

Lambo looks from him to what is revealed of his neck, chest, and arms from above the side of the bed – he is covered in love bites, bruises, and hickeys. "Heh heh heh… Don't worry, young Reborn, you are still a complete asshole; you just happen to be a considerate lover."

"That's a comforting thought. Why hasn't Bianchi murdered you yet?"

Lambo pales and looks at Reborn with horror. "_Yare, yare_… I forgot all about that… It wasn't until last night that anybody else knew of our relationship… except Hibari." Now he is scared for his life… Bianchi is going to rip him a new one and then shove it full of poisoned pies.

The arcobaleno's head tilts up as if he had heard something interesting. He stands up from where he had been sitting in the middle of the bed and struts towards Lambo's head, grabbing each cheek with one tiny hand. Lambo blinks at him, confused by the other's action. "Young Reborn? -Mm!"

When the pink smoke clears, an irritated, full-grown, Reborn is sitting on the bed. On the ground is a very red, very shocked Lambo who has a hand over his lips and an impossibly wide eye. "… Your baby self kissed me… I don't know what to think about that…"

It goes an amazingly long way to calm Reborn's attitude; almost getting him to smile. He crooks a finger and Lambo crawls back onto the bed, therefore Reborn's lap. "You let another man touch you without my permission?"

The guardian sputters. "It was _you_, from 10 years in the past." Hands trail down his chest and drag over his hips, picking him up and wiggling his bottom over an awaiting erection. "I didn't know you got morning wood." Which is _amazing_, considering the fact that he had been waking up with the hitman for weeks now and had been thoroughly fucked by him every morning. "That must have been awkward when you arrived in the past – Ah HAH!" He makes that sound again, like a moan, a whine, and a gasp all in one, and throws his head back, arching his spine.

Reborn licks his upper lip before lifting Lambo back up and letting gravity have him fall onto him again. Up and down, up and down, until Lambo is bouncing of his own will and Reborn is watching with perverse pleasure. He grabs the guardian's length and begins pumping it in time with their thrusts. "Naughty cow…" He purrs, bucking his hips up to meet every downward thrust with a 'slap!'. "Beautiful, _sexy_, cow…"

As far as mornings go, this was one of the better ones, hands down, no competition.

_**Author's Note: I really want to write a fluffy chapter soon…**_


	17. First Kill

It is their first mission since the one that had begun their relationship… which had been a month ago.

Lambo is actually able to walk beside Reborn and _not_ be ignored… _as_ often, though he does have to wear this ridiculous outfit.

He wears a body butt bodysuit (a skimpy piece of lingerie which begins as a choker at the neck, connected by eight lengths of mesh to a medallion a few inches beneath the breast and then continues into a thong; absolutely nothing else) with cow print for the collar and thong; he even has cow ears to go with it. He is down on his knees and arched into the table onto his chest, his mouth open as he accepts the 'treat' from his 'master'.

He is on a small stage with a pole behind him, level to the faces of his 'master' and the pimp who are sitting down in front of him.

And, of course, this is being watched by a 'fellow' pimp wishing to 'buy' Lambo for his own 'collection'; many quotes and many unquotes.

The grape is placed on his tongue and – just as rehearsed – he licks Reborn's finger with it.

The pimp laughs, absolutely delighted. "_Che un animale delizioso!_ ( - what a delightful pet!)" He reaches a hand out to stroke Lambo's ass, want in his eyes and a most definite problem forming in his pants.

His hand is, of course, flicked away by the hand of his 'master'. "_Non toccare la merce._ ( - No touching the merchandise.)"

"_Sei sicuro che sarà lui che vuole vendere?_ ( - Are you sure you will be wanting to sell him?)" He sounds too happy to even put into words.

Reborn tips Lambo's chin to the side, looking thoughtful as if debating the question. Lambo, like the _darling_ pet he is, takes Reborn's thumb into his mouth and sucks, his one eye large, adoring, and brainless – like an actual dog that had grown to love to obsession its abusive owner.

The pimp laughs with absolute joy. "_Come cute!_ ( - How cute!)" He tries again to touch Lambo.

This time his hand is grabbed and Reborn digs his thumb into the meaty part between the pimp's thumb and pointer finger until the man blanches. The pimp's scums – standing further back – go to move forward, but are shooed back by the hand of the pimp.

Reborn trails his wet thumb across his cheek and then drops it to brush (absentmindedly) at a nipple. The gasp that escapes Lambo is completely genuine. "_E 'troppo vecchio per i miei gusti ora, non la metà di carino come era 12 anni fa quando l'ho comprato._ ( - He is too old for my tastes now; not half as cute as he was 12 years ago when I first bought him.)" Lambo has to bite back a smile; 12 years ago, huh? Wasn't that when Reborn couldn't get rid of him, not the other way around?

"_Fanno crescere troppo in fretta._ ( - They do grow up too fast.)" He agrees with a sad tone. After a moment of contemplative silence, he claps his hands and offers a Cheshire grin to Lambo, though he talks to Reborn. "_Imposta il tuo prezzo e abbiamo un accordo, amico mio! Egli porterà a termine la mia collezione di polizia imitazione! _( - Set your price and we have a deal, my friend! He will complete my animal-imitation collection!)"

Reborn smiles at the pimp. "_E farò il nome. Tuttavia, mi devi consentire un momento per cercare di spiegare la situazione a lui. Egli è piuttosto attaccato e lasciando senza sapere perché avrebbe ucciso prima di qualsiasi dei vostri clienti._ ( - And I will name it. However, you must allow me a moment to try and explain the situation to him. He is rather attached and leaving without knowing why would sooner kill him than any of your clients.)" He is waved with eager hands and eager eyes to do so.

Reborn opens his arms and Lambo – with a wag of his ass and bliss on his face – crawls off of the stage and onto his 'master's' lap, never getting off of all fours. He makes a sexy 'moo' sound in the back of his throat, something that sounds more like a plea to be _fucked_ senseless, and wiggles his bottom down onto his lap; he may as well torture his lover, right?

Hands grasp his waist and Reborn lifts his head to pretend whisper into his ear; really, he's just dragging his tongue over the lobe of his ear until Lambo whimpers and his face flushes. He makes another pitiful 'moo' noise, this one more sad and confused, as if he just can't understand what his 'master' is saying to him.

And while he is on Reborn's lap, Reborn himself is using Lambo's body as a distraction and a disguise as he slips his gun out and points it behind himself through the sheer black covers of the chair, too many layers to see through, but hardly enough to deter the seven bullets that each hit their respective marks with hardly a sound at all, which Lambo tries to cover by a loud, whiny mewl.

It happens so fast, the pimp's scums don't have enough time to draw their own guns or make a sound (other than a few grunts, but those can be misinterpreted in this kind of situation) before they drop to the ground, which, again, Lambo tries to cover the sound of by making a weak sobbing sound, shaking his head back and forth and whimpering in distress.

However unfortunate, the pimp is not that stupid. He frowns and then looks back to his scum follows; he gasps and falls out of his chair, stumbling back and away from Reborn and Lambo. "_Si tratta di un set up! Sono stato truffato!_ ( - This is a set up! I've been cheated!)"

There is a gun strapped just beneath the chair, just for this moment. However, he doesn't have to reach for it; into his hand, Reborn hands the Beretta. He kisses Lambo, deeply, almost like blood lust had descended upon him. "What are you waiting for?" He asks with that high and mighty tone of his, sitting back in the chair and looking at Lambo with a mad sort of reverence in his eyes.

"For you to hand me the gun." He points the Beretta between the eyes of the pimp; the pimp sucks in a deep breath, tears falling from his eyes. He pats furiously around his own body for his own gun, but, in his panic, can not get it free from the holster. He looks from him to Reborn with horror and confusion, unable to understand anything other than Italian.

'_Bang!'_ He drops like a rag doll.

Tears streak Lambo's cheeks, but he isn't sorry for it. "_You should have thought first before you tried to kidnap my best friend._ ( - You should have thought first before you tried to kidnap my best friend.)"

It was only lucky to this pimp that I-Pin had been able to escape with only a ripped blouse and a few scratches; or else there would have been torture instead of a merciful shot to the head.

The gun is taken from his hand and Reborn licks one salty cheek. "The first kill is always the worst." He stands to his feet with Lambo hitched up to his chest in his arms. "Now, let's go." He lowers Lambo to his feet at the exit of the private bar, making the call to the clean up crew while Lambo slips into the bathroom and changes into his clothes.

When he comes back, Reborn is leaning against the exit, watching the door instead of the cleanup crew who had been on standby for this exact moment.

He doesn't look at Lambo as he turns around and walks out. Lambo, however, follows after him with the unwavering loyalty that he has for the hitman. He stares at the back of his head as they walk into the Ferrari 599, both of them into the backseat as they are driven away.

The moment the door shuts; Lambo pushes his head into Reborn's chest, sobbing his heart out as his hands catch in the hitman's suit. Reborn does not tell him to suck it up, or tell him that he is pathetic, or even abuse him, but nor does he acknowledge him, only lending a shoulder to cry on as if he didn't even know Lambo was crying on it to begin with. The ignorance is… calming, for once; like old times; like _before_ Lambo dressed like a cow-fetish sex slave and shot a man dead.

He _feels_ pathetic, that's for certain. How is he expected to be a hitman if he can't kill a god damn criminal? Someone who tried to capture and sell his best friend and would have _succeeded_ had it been anyone but I-Pin. How had he ever thought that he could kill Reborn? It always looked so easy! It was just point and click! Like the damn American auto insurance commercial said! – Except it wasn't a mouse, you were pointing a gun and clicking on the trigger.

He had seen everyone else do it and, except for a few somber expressions, none of them had cried. … He was weak, wasn't he? That was why Reborn was ignoring him, because he was _shamefully_ weak and now the stingy hitman knew that he had made the wrong choice for a lover. Well, _sor~ry_, he can't help it! It wasn't even that he felt _bad_ for killing the pimp, he just felt _dirty_ for it! He had watched that man cower and cry and it had been like shooting a child; it hadn't felt _right_.

"_Tirare qui_. ( - Pull over here.)" The car pulls over and Reborn slides out of the car. Lambo blinks before running his sleeve over his eyes, frame shaking. Oh _great_, he's being abandoned… _again_. _Just_ like old times, right?

Except Reborn reaches back into the car, grabs his elbow, and pulls him forcefully from the backseat, dragging him onto the sidewalk. Lambo looks up at him with wide-eye confusion as an arm wraps around his waist and pulls him flush to Reborn's side.

"_Puoi lasciare ora._ ( - You can leave now.)" The car pulls away from the curb and disappears after a ways.

They're in front of the hotel they rent every time they come to this part of Italy; the same one Lambo lost his virginity in. He looks from the splendor building to Reborn.

"A first kill deserves a drink." He is pushed towards the building and then into the elevator; he either must have made earlier preparations or no one was going to dare stop him.

Lambo stares at him. "… What was your first kill like?"

The hitman looks down at him. "Messy and surprising." He speaks in a tone that clearly says 'drop it', So Lambo (guessing from that) does.

He rests his head on his shoulder and his arms around his neck, sniffling. "I don't think I can do that again."

"Neither do I, but you will."

"_Yare, yare_, what a comforting thought."

As far as first drinks go – Lambo can not hold down his alcohol… and it ends up all over the bar, the sink, and the toilet.


	18. End of Discussion

'_Crinkle' 'crackle' 'crinkle'_ goes the newspaper as Reborn flips another page. He is half asleep and his body is a pleasant hum of laziness. There is the reassuring '_thu-thump' 'thu-thump' 'thu-thump' _into his ear and the gentle rumble of breathing against his cheek.

This is peaceful… the most peaceful it has been in _days_. Reborn made a wonderful pillow, especially since he didn't talk. Lambo has nothing to do with what is in the newspaper, so he takes second for the moment, but happily so. His butt is far too sore to entertain the old pervert.

"We're going to Ottawa tomorrow." _'Crinckle' 'crackle' 'crinkle'_

"Mm? Ottawa, Canada?" He nuzzles into the hitman's throat. "Why?" He trails a finger over Reborn's bicep.

"We are getting married." _'Crinkle' 'crackle' 'crinkle'_

He stretches languidly. "_Yare, yare_, no engagement ring?" An average golden band is pulled out of seemingly nowhere; Reborn does not even look up from his newspaper. "Clever Reborn." He smiles. "How early do we leave?"

_**Author's Notes: Abrupt ending, but it kind of felt right if not missing a few things in between. I might add to it, I might not, but I am done for now.**_


End file.
